


To Family

by dS_Tiff



Category: due South
Genre: Case Fic, Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dS_Tiff/pseuds/dS_Tiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's out to kill Mounties and a surprising visitor arrives at the Consulate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set towards the end of Season 3/4 of due South. I hope you enjoy it. All comments welcome. Thank you kindly!

“Morning, Turnbull!” Detective Ray Kowalski grinned as he greeted the young Mountie standing guard outside the Canadian Consulate building. He knew that Constable Turnbull would not respond; the rules of sentry duty being, apparently, to act like a statue until the end of your shift. What the point of that was, Ray had never figured out. He contemplated tickling, or maybe even slapping Turnbull just to see if he could get a reaction, but in the end Turnbull benefitted from Ray’s good mood as the only gesture Ray offered was a wave as he ran past him and up the steps.

“Hello, Ray,” Fraser greeted him as he closed the door of the Consulate behind his friend.

“So what did Turnbull do this time?” asked Ray, still grinning. “The Ice Queen only ever puts you guys on sentry duty these days when she’s mad at ya, right?”

Fraser sighed, wishing that Ray would refrain from referring to his superior officer in such a manner. True, the Inspector could, at times, emit a certain coldness, but Fraser knew, probably more than anyone, that underneath that harsh exterior was a woman who was anything but cold. On this occasion, however, Ray was spot on with his analysis of the situation.

“Unfortunately, the Inspector received some disappointing news this morning,” Fraser explained. 

“Nothing too serious, I hope?” asked Ray, his grin subsiding.

“No,” replied Fraser, shaking his head. “Although the Inspector may disagree. She was under the impression that she had been nominated for an award, but it transpires that she had been misinformed.”

“By Turnbull?” 

“No, by Ottowa.”

Ray frowned. “So why does Turnbull have to pay?”

“Constable Turnbull spilled some coffee on the Inspector’s desk this morning, moments after she’d finished a rather awkward conversation with Head Office about the mix-up,” Fraser explained. “As you can imagine, it was not appreciated.”

“Jeez, is that it?” Ray shook his head. He actually felt sorry for Turnbull. “What award was it, anyway?” he asked with a wicked twinkle in his eye. “The Getting Cops To Fetch Your Dry Cleaning Award?”

Fraser frowned. “No, Ray,” he replied. “This, I believe, was the Inspirational Leader of the Year Award.”

A sudden noise escaped from Ray’s mouth which sounded like half laugh and half snort. “What?” he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “She actually thought she could win an award like that?” Ray couldn’t help himself as he descended into uncontrollable laughter.

“You know, Ray,” Fraser responded, keeping his voice even, “Inspector Thatcher can be very…inspirational…at times.” For a brief moment Fraser was on the roof of a runaway train…holding the Inspector in his arms…kissing her…

“Earth to Fraser,” Ray’s face was suddenly inches from his buddy’s. “You OK? Lost ya there for a minute,” he grinned. Ray had seen that look on the Mountie’s face before and it often coincided with talk of Meg Thatcher. _One day I’ll figure out what it means…_

“I’m…um, I’m sorry, Ray,” replied Fraser, clearing his throat and tugging at the tight collar of his red tunic with embarrassment.

Ray shrugged and thought about asking Fraser a few uncomfortable questions about his relationship with Thatcher, but it seemed cruel to subject his buddy to that so early in the morning, and besides, before he could speak, the Inspector herself walked out of her office.

“Constable, I shall most likely be out all day,” she said, sharply. “Oh, Detective, I didn’t see you there,” she added, scowling at Ray.

“Er, Inspector,” he acknowledged, smiling his smarmiest smile.

“Constable Turnbull can return to his desk duties in two hours,” continued Thatcher. “You’re in charge until I return. I don’t need any more screw ups today, understood?”

“Completely, Sir,” replied Fraser, standing to attention.

“And for heaven’s sake find something to get coffee stains out of antique oak,” she added. 

“Yes, Sir.”

Ray shook his head and rolled his eyes in disgust. _Very inspirational…_

Inspector Thatcher opened the front door, then let out a growl of frustration and slammed it shut again. “Car keys,” she muttered under her breath and stormed back towards her office.

Fraser scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb. He really felt for Turnbull. The young Constable had only been trying to lift his superior officer’s spirits after her disappointment, but as usual it went unappreciated. The humiliating punishment the Inspector had given him following what was, after all, just an accident was completely unnecessary in Fraser’s opinion. Fraser’s opinion however, as he was well aware, was unimportant to Inspector Thatcher. All of which just made his feelings for her even more confusing. 

Fraser glanced up at Ray. “Shall we?” he said, indicating towards his office. He wanted to be out of the way before the Inspector reappeared.

“Sure,” nodded Ray and took a step towards the door, but before he could take another one a noise penetrated the air and he momentarily froze in his tracks. He looked at Fraser. “Gunshot!” he exclaimed.

Fraser nodded and before Ray had even drawn his gun Fraser was half way to the door. The Mountie’s heart was pounding; the shot had been close, very close. He opened the door and his heart sank as his worst fears were confirmed. “Turnbull!” he yelled, running down the steps as fast as he could to his fallen colleague.

Constable Turnbull lay slumped against the bottom step, his head to one side and his legs tangled underneath his body where he’d fallen. Blood had started to soak through his tunic just below the leather of his Sam Browne. He tried to lift his head as Fraser dropped to his knees beside him, but he didn’t have the strength.

“Don’t try to move,” urged Fraser as he quickly unbuckled the brown leather belt. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Did I hear a…oh my god!” Inspector Thatcher had heard the noise too and come running to the door. She was shocked when she saw the scene. “I’ll call 911,” she said and hurried back inside.

Ray was at the gate looking around for any sign of the shooter, but there was no one to be seen. He aimed his weapon along the street, one way and then the other, but he saw no sign of anyone at all. “Nothing,” he yelled in frustration and came running back to join the two Mounties.

Turnbull tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a croaky grunt. 

“Sshhh,” said Fraser, clamping his hands tightly over Turnbull’s abdomen in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “Save your energy.”

Turnbull ignored the instruction; he had to say something, it was important. He slowly lifted one hand and pointed across the street. “W…w…window…” he breathed.

Fraser looked at Ray and then they both looked over at the building opposite. It was a three storey brick built townhouse with several windows. Ray glanced down at Turnbull hoping he could provide some more specific information, but the young Mountie’s eyes had started to drift shut. “I’ll go check it out,” said Ray and with one last worried glance at Turnbull he ran across the road.

Thatcher reappeared at the doorway. “They’re on their way,” she said. “How is he? Is he alright?” She knelt beside her subordinates, concern etched across her face.

“He’s been shot,” replied Fraser curtly. It was the only answer he felt that particular question warranted at that time. He quickly turned his attentions back to Turnbull. “Try to keep your eyes open, the ambulance will be here soon,” he encouraged. “Stay with me, Constable; that’s an order.”

Turnbull desperately tried to obey the order, but he was finding it hard to breathe. His legs felt cold, it was a strangely comforting feeling; it reminded him of home. “Home…” he whispered.

Inspector Thatcher was the most scared she’d been in a long time; Turnbull looked pale and grey, his breathing was becoming more and more laboured with every second that passed. She looked at Fraser with tears in her eyes, desperate for some sign of hope, but Fraser just looked away from her. She got up and ran to the gate. “Where is that goddam ambulance?” she shouted.

Fraser glanced up to see the ghost of his father standing on the steps of the Consulate. This was not a good sign, he thought. Turnbull was unconscious now, completely unresponsive; was the elder - dead - Fraser here to guide the young Mountie into the afterlife, or wherever it was his father currently inhabited? Fraser glared at the ghost and shook his head, his father did not respond. Fraser gingerly reached out to check the pulse in Turnbull’s neck and the merest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Turnbull hadn’t given up, not yet. 

xXxXx

“Hey.”

The sound of Ray’s voice startled Fraser. 

_That’s not good,_ thought Ray. _I’ve never seen him jump like that before, he can hear footsteps a mile away._

“I’m sorry, Ray,” began Fraser quietly. “I didn’t know you were there.” He briefly glanced at his partner before returning his attentions to the view through the glass window of Turnbull’s hospital room in the ICU.

“How’s he doin’?” asked Ray. From the look of all the machines surrounding Turnbull’s bed and the army of nurses in attendance it was probably a silly question.

“It’s a miracle he made it through the surgery,” replied Fraser. “At this juncture the doctors are unable to give an accurate prognosis. We’ll just have to wait and see; the next few hours will be crucial.”

Ray gently placed a supportive had on his buddy’s shoulder. “Jeez,” he said, letting out a slow breath. “You OK?”

Fraser tried to respond, but the lump in his throat prevented him from speaking.

“He’s a Mountie,” said Ray, as if that very fact alone would be enough to guarantee Turnbull’s recovery. “You just watch, he’ll be back on his feet singing those, er, those dumb Clint Black songs in no time.”

Fraser envied his partner’s ability to sound so positive. He squinted slightly and read the digital display on the one monitor that was facing the window and wished that Turnbull’s vital signs had improved since the last time he’d checked. 

Ray was very concerned for his buddy. Fraser looked pale and drawn and Ray assumed he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day. “Why don’t ya come and get somethin’ to eat with me?” he suggested.

Fraser’s head snapped round and he glared at his partner. Why was Ray talking about eating? “I’m not hungry, Ray.” He wanted to stay here in case there was any news.

“C’mon,” urged Ray, starting to get really worried now. Then he saw something in Fraser’s eyes that he rarely saw. Anger. It was so unusual that Ray was taken aback. “What…what is it?” he asked.

“He should not have been out there in the first place,” spat Fraser. He immediately turned away and hung his head, ashamed at what felt to him like an uncontrollable outburst.

Ray didn’t know how to respond. Of course Fraser was right, but finding someone to blame was really not a good thing to do at this moment in time. Besides, both Turnbull and Fraser had pulled hundreds of hours of sentry duty between them and this was the first time anything like this had ever happened. Maybe Inspector Thatcher shouldn’t have sent him out there, thought Ray, but she couldn’t really be blamed for Turnbull ending up in the ICU fighting for his life. Not really.

Fraser let out a slow sigh and looked around for his father who had, so far, not appeared at the hospital. In a way that he couldn’t really explain, Fraser was relieved.

“So, er, where’s the Ice Queen now anyway?” asked Ray eventually breaking the silence.

“She is attempting to contact Constable Turnbull’s parents,” explained Fraser, some normality returning to his voice.

“We’ve got people searching the area,” explained Ray. “Er, no leads yet.”

Fraser nodded solemnly. It had only been a few hours since the shooting, but he and Ray were all too aware that the more time passed the less likely they were to catch whoever was responsible for the attempt on Turnbull’s life.

“Did you mention something about eating?” asked Fraser, suddenly with the merest hint of a sparkle in his eyes.

Ray smiled with relief. “Yeah,” he replied. He knew all too well what his buddy was going through – there was nothing worse than seeing a fellow cop with his life hanging in the balance – but he also knew that you had to stay strong and carry on, it was the only way. He was going to be there to help Fraser as much as he could. 

_Survivor’s guilt. Been there, done that…_

They were about to head to the hospital café when Inspector Thatcher came around the corner, walking briskly. She almost bumped into Ray, although fortunately Fraser had regained enough of his senses to be able to avoid a direct collision. “Detective, what are you doing here?” Thatcher exclaimed.

“Er, I came to check on Turnbull,” replied Ray with a sneer, not that it was any of her business. “And to see how you guys were holdin’ up,” he added, glancing at Fraser.

“We’re doing just fine,” snapped Thatcher. “However, one of my officers is lying in a hospital bed and I expect you to be out there looking for whoever put him there!”

It took all of Ray’s self-restraint not to kick her in the head. “The Chicago PD has everyone on this case,” he replied, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “We’ve got forensics people all over it and I’ve just spent two hours knocking on doors gettin’ statements. No one shoots a cop on my watch and gets away with it.”

“Ah, well, um…” the Inspector trailed off, suddenly aware that she should not have spoken to him so rudely. Of course he was doing everything he could and of course he would have wanted to see how Turnbull was, not to mention Fraser. She turned to stare through the window at Turnbull. She was racked with guilt, not only for sending him outside this morning, but for the way she treated him all the time. Suddenly, faced with the very real possibility that they might lose him, she realised how much she relied on him at the Consulate and, bizarre personality traits aside, what a good policeman he was. She turned back to Fraser with tears in her eyes.

All the anger suddenly drained from Fraser and instead he wanted to pull her into a comforting hug, but that would have to wait, he realised. Their eyes met and he knew she understood. “Were you able to contact Turnbull’s parents?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Unfortunately not,” replied Thatcher. “Their last known location was a small Inuit settlement on the banks of the Mackenzie River. I’ve sent a message, but it could be days before it reaches them, if indeed it reaches them at all. By all accounts they travel around a lot, they’re naturalists.”

“Isn’t it, er, y’know, a little cold up there in the Northwest Yukon for that?” asked Ray, puzzled.

“Naturalists, Ray,” stated Fraser. “Not naturists. They’re experts in the study of wildlife, botany, conservation and the like.”

“Oh,” nodded Ray, somewhat relieved. Although for some reason he could well imagine Turnbull’s parents to be the type of people who ran around naked in the snow.

“And I’ve told you before, it’s the Northwest Territories, or the Yukon,” added Fraser. Why Americans found it so hard to get that correct he would never understand.

“I did speak to a Sargent Beaumont of the Fort Norman Detachment and he believes they have a second offspring,” explained the Inspector.

“So Turnbull has a sibling,” noted Fraser.

“Apparently so. Mr and Mrs Turnbull are not known to be travelling with anyone else, so Beaumont is attempting to track him, or her, down,” replied Thatcher. Then she added quietly, “Turnbull needs his family here.”

xXxXx

“I wish you’d come stay at my place tonight,” sighed Ray. He looked around the reception room at the Consulate. It seemed eerily quiet without Turnbull. Usually he could be heard singing, or breaking things in the kitchen, but this evening there was just the ticking of the antique wall clock and Diefenbaker’s gentle snoring to break the silences between Ray and Fraser’s stilted conversation.

“Thank you kindly, but I’ll be fine here,” replied Fraser. “Just as I was fine last night.” 

The day after the shooting had flown by so quickly Fraser couldn’t believe it was evening again. Turnbull had survived for over thirty six hours now, somewhat remarkably, according to medical opinion. Now there was a strong chance he would make a good recovery. He was still on life support, but had shown some tiny signs of improvement today. 

The investigation was in full swing, but had so far proved fruitless. Fraser had offered to help, but there were so many Chicago PD officers crawling all over the place there was actually very little he could do, so he had spent most of the day at the hospital. This evening he had pulled Turnbull’s personnel file, with Inspector Thatcher’s permission of course, and had been scouring it for anything that might give them a clue as to how to contact Turnbull’s family.

“But what if the shooter comes back here?” asked Ray.

“We have absolutely nothing to indicate that he would do such a thing,” noted Fraser.

“But that’s just it, buddy,” sighed Ray in frustration. “We got nothing.” He got to his feet and started pacing up and down. The investigation had so far drawn a complete blank. The only clue they had was Turnbull’s indication that the shot had been fired from the window of one of the buildings on the other side of the road, but given his condition at the time it was not unfeasible that even that was incorrect. Turnbull didn’t have any enemies to speak of, so their only theory for now was that it was a random act. Perhaps Turnbull was simply the unlucky recipient of a stray bullet? There were a number of possibilities, but no evidence to back any of them up. 

“What if you were the real target?” asked Ray. “You guys look pretty much the same in your red gear, from a distance.”

“That possibility is already being looked into, as you are aware,” replied Fraser. “Francesca is working through a list of malfeasants who may harbour resentment toward me.”

“I still figure you’d be better off staying with me tonight,” replied Ray.

Before Fraser had a chance to respond, there was a knock at the door and he got up to answer it.

“Maybe I should open that?” suggested Ray. “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” asked Fraser.

Ray rolled his eyes and followed Fraser out into the hall. 

Fraser opened the door. “Good evening, miss,” he greeted to visitor with a smile. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Oh,” the young woman on the doorstep looked disappointed. She was wearing a thick, fur lined coat and knee high leather boots. The coat was undone revealing a short, pink, mini skirt. “Am I in the right place?” she asked.

“That would depend on which place in particular you anticipated being at this juncture,” replied Fraser.

The young woman looked confused. She twirled her bleached blonde hair around her index finger. “Is this where the Mounties live?” she asked.

Fraser glanced at Ray; that was a strange way of putting it. “Well, as it happens, I do live here, but only on a temporary basis,” he explained. “This is the Canadian Consulate. My name is Constable Benton Fraser.”

“Oh thank god!” she exclaimed. She bent down and picked up a small, pink suitcase on wheels that had been standing just out of sight and barged past Fraser into the Consulate.

Ray and Fraser took a step back and stared at each other in surprise.

“I have had just the worst journey in the whole world,” continued the woman. “It took me, like, forever just to get to Yellowknife and then the plane had some kind of engine thing, like, there was a problem, or whatever, so we got diverted to I don’t know where – I can’t remember – and then it was dark before we even got to Calgary and I wanted to buy a new lipstick - a pink one, like this one but kinda darker and I heard that the stores at the airport are, like, sooo cheap - but they wouldn’t let me because the plane for Winnipeg was already boarding! Like, what difference would it have made to them?”

“Well, I…” began Fraser, but she was in full flow.

“So then the captain on the flight to Winnipeg was, like, some kind of psycho or something because I felt kinda sick and I never get sick on planes so I figure he was flying in a totally weird way on purpose just to get back at me,” she continued, barely pausing for breath.

"I don't think that he..." Fraser attempted to get a word in edgeways again.

"So..." The young woman wasn't going to let him, or anyone, speak. “To cut a long story short, I finally got to Chicago and I was so excited because, like, I've never been to the U S of A before, I mean, not really, only in my head, y'know! Anyway, it's so cool here! The biggest city I’ve been to back home is probably, um, actually I don’t know. I haven’t really been to that many big cities, y’know. I mean, I want to, but, well, anyway no one at the airport here knows where the Mounties live. It’s so dumb! You should tell someone because, y'know, it's, like, important, right? Eventually I found this super-hot cab driver who dropped me at the end of the street. Lucky, huh?"

"Indeed," agreed Fraser. He hesitated, expecting her to start up again, but it seemed that the young woman had finally paused for breath. "I'm sorry," he began, "but who are you, exactly?"

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "I'm, like, sooo sorry! I'm Dippy."

"Dippy?" Ray repeated, glancing at Fraser. What an appropriate name, he thought, stifling a snigger.

"Well, my actual, whole name is Serendipity," she explained, "but, like, everyone calls me Dippy. Or Ren, but that gets, like, totally confusing when my brother's around."

"Your brother?" queried Fraser, as he slowly began to piece things together.

"Yes," nodded Dippy. "Because, you know, everyone shortens Renfield to Ren."

"I see," nodded Fraser. 

"So, where is my brother?" asked Dippy. "I got this weird message that he was, like, sick or something."

Ray was confused. He glanced at Fraser. "Do you know her?" he asked. With everything that had happened, Ray was very suspicious of this strange young woman. She'd forced her way into the Consulate and managed to distract them for several minutes now. 

_It could be some kinda trap…_

"Not exactly," replied Fraser. Her odd hybrid Canadian/Californian accent had planted a seed of doubt in his mind to start with, but now he was certain that his initial thoughts had been correct. "Ray," he said tugging at his earlobe. "This is Constable Turnbull's sister."

Ray stared at her in disbelief. "Really?"

Dippy laughed. "Really!" she replied. "Now, where's my dork of a brother?"

Fraser glanced at Ray and then back to Dippy. This was not going to be an easy conversation. "I think you'd better sit down."


	2. Chapter 2

“Thank you.” Serendipity took Fraser’s handkerchief gratefully and wiped her eyes as Ray handed her a glass of water.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about it this way,” said Fraser. 

“Yeah,” agreed Ray. “We kinda hoped the message would’ve gotten through.”

Dippy shook her head sadly. “If I lived in, like, a normal place I’d have a phone and you could’ve just called me,” she said, “but I live in a stupid frozen hellhole in the middle of nowhere and all I got was a scribbled note from Albert at the post office!” She broke down again.

Ray felt sorry for her. From what little he’d seen of her she did not seem like the kind of person who would live in the same place that Fraser loved so much at all. She’d seemed so excited just to be in Chicago. Chicago had been the only place Ray had ever called home and given the choice he’d rather be anywhere else, but to Serendipity Turnbull it was a place of wonder and amazement. Suddenly she’d learnt that her brother was clinging to life in the ICU and her bubble had burst. Ray put a gentle hand on her arm. “Hey, look, he’s doin’ OK, right Fraser?” he said encouragingly.

Fraser nodded hesitantly. If by ‘OK’ Ray meant Turnbull was still alive then yes, he was. “He has proven himself to be stronger than anyone could have expected,” Fraser said, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to give Turnbull’s sister false hope, the young Constable was still in a critical condition. “He has shown some small, but encouraging signs today,” he added.

“Can you, like, drive me to the hospital, please?” Dippy asked tearfully.

“I’m sorry, it’s too late tonight, visiting hours are over,” explained Fraser with an apologetic smile. “I’ll take you there first thing in the morning, though.”

Dippy nodded. “I wish Mum and Dad were here,” she half whispered.

“Do ya have any idea how we can, er, contact them?” asked Ray.

Dippy shook her head sadly. “Nope,” she replied. “They’re probably in, like, some igloo somewhere watching some stupid polar bears, or mountain goats eat leaves. Like, how dull is that?”

“I take it you don’t share your parents’ love of nature?” offered Fraser.

“No,” replied Dippy. “Well, kind of, I guess. I mean, animals are cute and all that, but, like, why can’t you stay indoors and see them on TV? Or at the zoo? Or just look at pictures in a book, coz at least you can put a book down and go pee or something when you need to, y’know. You can’t do that out there in an igloo, or you’ll freeze all, like, down there, if you know what I mean, so you have to use one of those dumb peeing things that I hate.”

Ray had no idea what she meant by a ‘peeing thing’, but she was off again and he didn’t get an opportunity to ask.

“And plants are really boring!” she continued. “They don’t even do anything. I guess they, like, grow or whatever, but that’s about it. I like pretty flowers, I guess, but Mum just stares at leaves sometimes and Dad, like, talks to trees. I mean, oh my god! How weird is that, right?”

Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. He didn’t see anything weird at all with the things Mr and Mrs Turnbull did, in fact he was somewhat envious of their lifestyle.

Diefenbaker yapped and Dippy’s head snapped round to look at him. She hadn’t even noticed him since she’d arrived. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “It’s an arctic wolf! We used to have a wolf, I called him Billy. Your wolf has different markings though. Is he, like, only half wolf or something?”

Fraser smiled; at least she had acquired some knowledge from her parents. “That’s correct,” he replied. “This is Diefenbaker.”

Dief yapped again and approached Dippy gingerly. He wasn’t sure about the new arrival; she reminded him of Constable Turnbull and that particular Mountie made him very nervous.

Dippy smiled a small smile. “Thanks,” she said to Dief. “It’s kind of you to say so, but I can’t help worrying. I haven’t seen my brother in, like, months.”

Dief made a throaty noise and pawed at her arm.

“OK, I’ll try,” she added smiling down at him.

Ray’s face fell into a confused frown. “Wait, er, you can understand him?”

Dippy laughed. “Of course,” she replied, patting Dief on the head. “I mean, like, I only know a little wolf because my Mum taught me when I was a kid. Oh and some caribou and a bit of elk – although once you know caribou then elk is, like, easy to pick up, right?”

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser.

“When my parents are away and it’s just me and the animals it’s nice to have someone to talk to, or, like, I’d go crazy on my own,” she explained.

Ray shook his head in disbelief. All Canadians are freaks, he decided.

“So, er, d’ya watch a lot of TV?” asked Ray, desperate to draw the conversation away from talking to animals.

“Sure,” replied Dippy. “I like to pretend I live in the cool places you see on TV instead of in stupid Canada.”

Fraser was about to object to her insulting the land of his birth, but Ray jumped in before he had chance.

“What’s your favourite show?” he asked. He didn’t really care, but he was trying to keep the conversation moving.

“Well, I love anything set in California. That’s where I want to live one day,” she explained. 

“That explains your accent,” noted Fraser. She obviously watched a lot of television.

“Oh,” giggled Dippy. “Yeah, people say that, like, all the time,” she said. “So anyway, I figure one day I’ll, like, go down to California and sign up to lifeguard rookie school, just like on Baywatch. Except I can’t swim, so I guess I’d have to learn first, or something, but if I can’t be a lifeguard then maybe I’ll just hang out on Venice Beach and maybe a talent scout from a modelling agency will notice me and then I’ll do some modelling and eventually get into acting. That would be, like, just the best thing ever!”

“You have no desire to follow your brother into the police, then?” Fraser asked.

Ray nearly choked on his own saliva. This girl couldn’t be a cop, he thought, not in a million years!

“No,” replied Dippy, incredulously. “Can you imagine? I mean, how often do you break a nail chasing a bad guy? It must drive you crazy!”

“All the time,” replied Ray, sarcastically.

Dippy took a deep breath and stood up with sudden determination. “OK, so if I can’t see my brother until the morning, can we go out?” she asked.

“Well it’s a little late and rather chilly out there, but I understand your desire for some fresh air at this juncture,” began Fraser as he stood up to join her. “And Diefenbaker could always use an extra opportunity to relieve himself before bedtime. We can walk around a few blocks, or across to the park.”

“No, silly,” giggled Dippy. “I don’t mean go out for a walk, I mean out out!”

“Out out?” queried Ray.

“You know, like to a club or something,” explained Dippy. “Come on you guys, this is my first night in a big city. I know there are some cool clubs and bars around here, I passed loads in the cab on the way from the airport. I’ve never been to any place like that, unless you count the Dancing Muskox in Moosejaw, but that place sucked. I only went there to see Banana Shoe playing – they’re a band, if you haven’t heard of them – but their bus got stuck in, like, a ten foot snowdrift or something and they didn’t show which totally sucked after I’d gone all that way. So come on, what d’ya say?”

She waited for an answer, but was disappointed when none came.

“Please?” she begged. “I need to do something to take my mind off worrying about Ren,” she added.

Ray sighed, feeling suddenly guilty. He could do with a beer, or two, himself; it had been a tough couple of days. “OK,” he said. “I know a few places that are walking distance from here. We’ll go and, er, check ‘em out.” 

He hadn’t been to a club in a while - not unless you counted the ones he’d busted for serving underage drinkers - and he suddenly felt very old. He took one look at Dippy in her high heels and short skirt and then his own outfit of tatty jeans and a t-shirt and immediately felt like his dad. What people were going to think when he walked into a club with Dippy Turnbull on his arm was anyone’s guess.

“Thank you so much!” squealed Dippy and hugged him tightly around the neck. “Are you coming too?” she asked Fraser.

“Er, I, er…um…” Fraser most certainly did not want to go to a club. He found the volume level of the music almost unbearable for one thing and the crowds of people made him very uncomfortable.

Ray laughed. “I think Fraser here needs to hit the sack,” he explained. “He’s no fun anyway,” he added with a wink. “See ya later, buddy,” he added with a look of mild panic on his face. He was already regretting making the offer. “Pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er.”

Dippy picked up her coat and they headed out of the door, with Fraser waving them off as they walked down the road. He closed the door and turned to look down at Dief. “Well,” he said, glancing at the pink suitcase that was standing in the hallway. “I appears that we have a house guest.”

xXxXx

“Hello son.”

Fraser sat bolt upright in his red long johns. The camping bed he used to sleep on in his office creaked with the sudden movement. “Dad!” he exclaimed, panting to catch his breath. “I was just drifting off to sleep.”

“Sorry son,” replied the ghost of Bob Fraser.

Benton was suddenly very worried that his father had chosen to appear at this hour. “What is it? Is it Turnbull?” he asked nervously.

“No son,” Bob shook his head. “At least, not as far as I know. I just wanted to see how you were holding up.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you kindly,” replied Benton. “Now I am really rather tired…” he began, but Bob interrupted him.

“I see there’s another Turnbull sibling,” he said. “I thought one was quite enough for the world to cope with.”

Benton frowned. “Dad, considering the circumstances, that was highly inappropriate.”

“Of course, sorry,” replied Bob. “But she does seem rather, um…”

“Worried about her brother?” offered Benton before his father could say something rude.

“Well, yes, naturally,” agreed Bob, “but I was going to say excitable.”

“It’s her first time in Chicago – her first time in any big city, I believe,” explained Benton. “It can be a little overwhelming, take it from me.”

“Oh, I know that,” nodded Bob. “You can certainly tell she’s from the same gene pool, though, can’t you.”

“Yes,” agreed Benton. He couldn’t really argue with his father there. Serendipity’s excited ramblings had reminded him so much of Constable Turnbull when he’d just got hold of a rare Clint Black recording, or after a soufflé he’d made had risen perfectly. “I…I hope Constable Turnbull is going to be alright,” he said quietly.

“Me too, son,” agreed Bob. “He’s a Mountie, he doesn’t deserve this.”

Benton shook his head. “No one does,” he said.

“Do the Yanks have any leads yet?” asked Bob.

“Unfortunately not,” replied Benton. “But there are a lot of people working the case. The Chicago Police Department don’t take kindly to people shooting police officers, no matter which side of the border our allegiance lies.”

“As it should be, son,” smiled Bob. “As it should be. Goodnight.” He turned and walked into Benton’s closet.

Benton sighed and tried to go back to sleep.

xXxXx

“C’mon, Enrique, ya must’ve seen her. Long legs, short skirt…” Ray trailed off and looked around the bar again, desperately hoping that Dippy might reappear. “I was only in the can for two minutes!”

In those two minutes, Serendipity had vanished. They’d been having a good time, although the younger Turnbull sibling apparently had less of an attention span than Ray. This was the second bar they’d visited and that was after dancing in two clubs – she did not like to stay in one place too long. Ray thought that Dippy had been enjoying herself. She’d certainly been chatting enough, Ray had hardly got a word in edgeways all night. Now, without any warning, she’d vanished.

“Sorry, Ray, didn’t see her leave,” replied the barman with a shrug.

“This isn’t police business, Enrique,” explained Ray. “This is personal, OK? Now try to think. I went to the can, she was sitting at that table over there…did anyone go over to her?”

“I already told you, I didn’t see nothing,” reiterated Enrique. “You know I’d tell you if I did.”

Ray nodded. Enrique was a good guy, he had no reason to lie. “She probably just wanted to go to a different place,” he said. “She liked the neon sign outside The Boardwalk, maybe I should try there?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a girl’s run out on you, Ray,” grinned Enrique as he dried some freshly washed glasses with a cloth.

“Hardy har har,” sneered Ray. “We’re not on a date, not that it’s any of your business. Her brother is a Mountie, the one who got shot yesterday. It’s her first night in Chicago.”

“And you brought her to my establishment? I’m honoured.”

“Cut it out, Enrique,” snapped Ray. “This is serious, she doesn’t know her way around. She could wind up anywhere, we’ve gotta find her quick before she lands herself in big trouble.” Ray’s blood ran cold as he thought about all the lowlifes out on the streets at this time of night. 

“Sorry,” mumbled Enrique. “If I hear anything I’ll let you know, OK?”

Ray nodded and slapped the palm of his hand on the bar in frustration. “I’m callin’ Fraser,” he said. It was the last thing he’d wanted to do, but he had no choice now. Fraser would probably be mad at him, he figured. They’d only been out for a couple of hours and he’d lost Turnbull’s sister. How d-u-m dumb was that? With a heavy sigh he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Ten minutes later Fraser came running round the corner to find Ray standing at the entrance to Enrique’s Bar.

“Thanks for coming out, Fraser. Still no sign of her,” said Ray, clenching his fists in frustration. “I’m…I’m sorry, OK. I just left her for a minute while I went to the, er, the can.”

“It’s not your fault, Ray,” replied Fraser. “You had to urinate. You couldn’t very well have taken her with you to the gentlemen’s restroom.”

“Er, no,” agreed Ray, momentarily smiling to himself at the term ‘gentlemen’s restroom’.

“I suggest we work on a basic search pattern starting from this point, her last known location,” began Fraser. “Diefenbaker and I will…” but he was interrupted by the sound of a scream.

“Dippy!” exclaimed Ray and he, Fraser and Dief immediately raced off in the direction of the noise.

They ran into the alley behind the bar just in time to see Dippy struggling with a man. He had a tight hold of her arm and was trying to drag her through a side door into the building opposite.

“Get off me, you asshole!” exclaimed Dippy.

“Police, freeze!” yelled Ray, pulling his gun and aiming it at the man.

The man took one look at Ray, shoved Dippy to the ground and tried to run off. He didn’t anticipate a wolf leaping on him, however and Diefenbaker knocked him off his feet.

In a split second Fraser was helping Dippy to her feet and Ray was dragging the man off the floor.

“Are you alright?” asked Fraser with concern.

“Sure, I guess,” replied Dippy with a shrug. She was more shaken up than she was letting on. “This guy thought I wanted to, like, go to bed with him. Can you believe it?”

Ray could well believe it. “OK, scuzzbucket,” he said, pushing the man face first against the wall and re-holstering his weapon. “You are under arrest.”

“I mean, look at him! That sweater has a hole in it,” continued Dippy as Fraser supported her by the elbow. “I don’t sleep with guys who dress like bums! I don’t sleep with many guys at all, actually,” she added. 

“Hey, lady, you were sure as hell giving me all the signals,” shouted the man in his defence.

“Ray, you’d better caution this man at once,” urged Fraser. The last thing they wanted was for anything he said now to be inadmissible in court.

Ray nodded and began reciting the Miranda Rights. Whether the man could hear him over Dippy’s high pitched shouting was debateable.

“What signals?” screamed Dippy. “You, like, just came up to me in the bar. You said you had something I wanted. I thought you meant weed. That was, like, the only reason I went outside with you.”

Fraser’s mouth fell open. “You intended to purchase marijuana from this man?” He was stunned. He knew for a fact that Constable Turnbull would never touch drugs. He only had a small glass of wine on special occasions and certainly never smoked.

“OK, pal, you can add Intent to Supply to that list of charges,” sneered Ray as he snapped handcuffs around the man’s wrist.

“Relax, Fraser,” said Dippy, shaking herself free from his grasp. “I’m not a junkie, or anything. I’ve never even tried it before, but I thought it might be fun, y’know? It’s what people do in Chicago, isn’t it?”

“I can assure you that not everyone in Chicago uses narcotics,” replied Fraser sternly. “And I must say I’m very disappointed that you’d even consider such a thing.”

“Fraser, maybe we should talk about this later?” suggested Ray. Now wasn’t the time for Fraser to give Dippy an anti-drug lecture. She had been stupid and naïve and they would have to have a long chat with her about it, but right now he had to get his prisoner to the station for processing.

“Right you are,” agreed Fraser. He glanced at his watch and sighed; this was going to be a long night.

xXxXx

“Oh my god, I’m so tired!” Dippy Turnbull slumped down hard onto the sofa at the Consulate. It was almost three in the morning and they had only just finished at the station. “I don’t know why you guys are, like, making a big deal out of this.” She had been really bored waiting around for someone to take her statement and had taken the opportunity to paint her nails. “Is this colour too dark?” she asked, waving her fingertips in front of Dief’s face.

Dief growled and Dippy turned her nose up in disappointment. “Thought so,” she agreed.

“A big deal?” replied Ray, incredulously. “It’s a big deal because I leave you alone for two minutes and the next thing you’re trying to buy dope!”

“Jeez, I thought you guys would be cool with it,” she shrugged. “I wish, like, I’d never mentioned it now.”

“We’re policemen,” Fraser pointed out. 

“Oh,” replied Dippy, her shoulders slumping as she realised the significance of his statement. “Look, I’m sorry, OK? It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t,” agreed Ray. “What did ya expect me to say to your brother when he woke up? I took your sister to a bar, but we lost her to some drug pushing bastard? Jesus, Dippy, anything could’ve happen to you! Do not go off with strange guys ya meet in bars and do not do drugs. Got it?”

Ray took a deep breath, he hadn’t expected to be the one to give her the lecture, but her disinterested attitude at the station had wound him up to the point of explosion.

“He seemed like a nice guy,” she replied, quietly.

“Yeah, real nice,” scoffed Ray. “So nice he was gonna get you high and then…then…drag ya to bed.” Ray was trying not to use language that would scare her. Dealing with Dippy could be a little like dealing with a child at times, he’d realised. She really didn’t seem to have a clue of how the world worked. In a funny way, he envied her.

“I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him,” replied Dippy.

“Unfortunately, not everyone takes no for an answer,” explained Fraser, sadly.

Dippy thought for a moment. “Oh…oh my god!” she said, eventually. “You don’t really think…I mean, like, you don’t think he was going to…?” Finally the seriousness of the situation she’d been in hit her and tears started to well in her eyes. 

“Well he practically had his hand up your skirt,” snapped Ray. “What d’ya think he was planning on doin’ up there?”

“Ray!” Fraser admonished, frowning at his partner, although he could understand why Ray had finally lost his temper.

Tears rolled down Dippy’s face now. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I was…was just trying to have a good time,” she sniffed. “If you guys hadn’t found me when you did, I could have been…I could have been raped…or killed…or raped and then killed…or maybe he might’ve raped me and then tortured me, or just left me tied up somewhere until…”

“Alright, there’s no need to contemplate all the possibilities at this juncture,” Fraser interrupted her before her own hyperactive mind scared her even more. “The important thing is that you’re safe and we have the perpetrator in custody.”

Ray sat down beside her on the sofa and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said, his voice much calmer now. “It wasn’t really your fault, but next time don’t go wandering off, especially not with, er, with strangers. OK?”

Dippy nodded and then her face lit up. “You mean, there’s gonna be a next time?” she asked, hopefully.

Ray realised how it must have sounded. He wanted to say ‘No, not in a million years,’ but considering the ordeal she’d just been through he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Er, maybe,” he mumbled.

“Oh, thank you, Ray,” she squealed, throwing her arms around him and almost pushing him back onto the sofa in her excitement. “Maybe tomorrow we could catch a movie? The last movie I saw on a big screen was Back to the Future. Y’know, with Michael J Fox? He’s so cute, but it was, like, the most confusing movie I’ve ever seen and it probably didn’t help that the projector broke down twice and we had to wait, like, half an hour for Hank the engineer guy to come fix it.”

Ray looked helplessly at Fraser. He couldn’t help liking Dippy, despite all the trouble she’d caused and he did feel really sorry for her. It sounded like she was quite unhappy in her life and if taking her to a movie would cheer her up, if only for a couple of hours, then he figured he could probably manage that. “OK,” he agreed and was rewarded with another squeal of delight. “Now I’ve really gotta get going,” he added before he got talked into anything else. “Get some sleep, OK. I’ll see ya tomorrow, buddy.”

As the front door clicked shut behind Ray, Dippy walked out into the hallway and picked up her case. “So, where do I sleep?” she asked.

Fraser smiled. “Upstairs,” he explained. “In the Regal Suite.”

Dippy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw the room. She had never slept in such luxurious surroundings in all her life.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Fraser awoke to find Serendipity cooking breakfast. “Good morning,” he greeted her as he admired the feast she was assembling on the small table in the kitchen. “My word, it smells delicious, but you didn’t have to do all of this.”

Dippy shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” she said, by way of explanation, “so I figured I’d, like, cook instead. I cook all the time at home, although there’s usually just me and the animals which totally sucks. My parents never seem to be around for mealtimes lately and if they are then my mum, like, just forgets to cook. Or she cooks and then forgets to eat. Usually there’s some dumb research project taking all her attention, but that’s kinda how it’s always been in our house. Ren and me had to learn to cook for ourselves when we were kids or we’d have probably starved to death.”

“Well, thank you kindly,” smiled Fraser. That explained why Constable Turnbull was so competent in the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Turnbull didn’t sound like they had been the greatest parents in the world, although Fraser immediately reprimanded himself for making judgements on people he really knew nothing about.

 _It’s no wonder Constable Turnbull has never spoken about his family before…_

Fraser had also had difficulty sleeping, but, realising that today was likely to be another difficult day, he’d managed to put himself under for a couple of hours. A good breakfast was just what he needed.

Diefenbaker jumped up onto a chair to get a better view of the spread. He didn’t know where to start, there was so much delicious food. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth and he drooled with anticipation.

“Down!” commanded Fraser.

Dief didn’t move.

“If you think you’re actually going to eat any of this, then I suggest you do as I ask,” continued Fraser, sternly.

Reluctantly the wolf got down from the chair and walked over to Dippy. He sat at her feet and looked up at her with his best sad eyes.

“You poor thing, you look hungry,” said Dippy, bending to pat him on the head.

Fraser rolled his eyes secretly admiring the animal’s ability to manipulate people. He took a seat at the table and poured himself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Dippy loaded a bowl with sausages, bacon, onions and pancakes and placed it on the floor. Dief could hardly believe his luck and proceeded to enjoy the feast. Dippy piled up another plate with food and put it on the table in front of Fraser, then she turned and started to fill the sink with hot water.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” asked Fraser with concern.

Dippy shook her head. “Can’t,” she replied. “I feel kinda, y’know, like, bleurgh. I keep freaking out about last night. I’m so dumb sometimes.” She sighed and turned off the tap, spinning round to face Fraser. “My brother’s in the hospital and I just…I just wanted to do something fun and then I almost wound up getting…well, y’know. I mean, I’ve had guys trying it on with me before, but the guys back home would never dream of, like, forcing themselves onto me. Well…well, maybe they would, I don’t know? Maybe I’ve just been lucky up to now? Maybe that guy was right last night? Y’know, about me, like, giving off signals. If a guy thinks I want it he’s gonna, like, try, isn’t he?”

Fraser picked up his knife and fork. “Unfortunately, some men…” he began, but Dippy hadn’t finished talking.

“And the weed thing. What was I thinking?” she continued. “I wasn’t thinking straight that’s for sure. I don’t really want to, like, do drugs or anything. You won’t tell anyone, will you? Ren, or my parents, I mean. Not that it’s anyone else’s business what I do, coz I’m, like, an adult so I can basically do what I like, right? Apart from illegal stuff, I guess, so I get why you and Ray were, like, mad at me about the weed. I’m sorry, OK. I really am. I just feel so out of my depth right now. I came all this way on my own and I thought it would be, like, exciting, y’know? Like, a big adventure, but I didn’t know how sick my brother was and, like, that he was in the ICU and I guess it all messed with my head and, like…” She finally paused for another breath.

“Why don’t you sit down and try to eat something?” suggested Fraser, seizing the opportunity to speak. “You’ve gone to all this trouble and there’s too much for just Diefenbaker and myself to eat. You need to keep your strength up. Then it’ll be time to go to the hospital.” Fraser was concerned at how Dippy was going to react when she saw her brother in the ICU. People often found the amount of medical equipment keeping their loved ones alive in these circumstances quite overwhelming and he guessed that Dippy had never experienced anything like it before.

Dippy let out a long slow sigh. “OK,” she said. She suddenly realised just how tired she felt. She sat down opposite Fraser and put a single sausage on her plate, making a half-hearted attempt to cut off a bite-sized piece.

Fraser narrowed his eyes with concern. She looked completely different to the bubbly, young woman who’d arrived on the doorstep yesterday evening. He glanced at his watch; it was still almost two hours before they’d be allowed in to see Constable Turnbull, but he had an idea. “Perhaps I could telephone the hospital for an update on your brother’s condition?” he suggested.

Dippy’s face broke into a huge smile and she nodded enthusiastically. “I just want to know that he’s OK,” she said. “As OK as he can be, I mean. I know that he’s, like, in a coma, but…”

“I’ll make the call,” Fraser interrupted her and he walked out into the hall, with Dippy following behind. Diefenbaker stayed put to finish his breakfast.

The nurse at the hospital was happy to speak to Dippy for a few minutes, reassuring her that they were doing everything they could for her brother and that he’d had had a good night, all things considered. She told Dippy that she was welcome to visit at any time. Fraser took the phone from Dippy, thanked the nurse kindly, and replaced the receiver. Then he realised that Dippy was crying.

“We’ll go immediately, if you’d like?” he offered. He realised that she really needed to see her brother, no matter what condition he was in.

“Thank you,” whispered Dippy and she grabbed Fraser and pulled him into a huge hug, taking the Mountie by surprise. 

It took him a second to relax enough to be able to put his arms around her. “It’s alright,” he said. 

Just then the front door opened and Inspector Thatcher walked in. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Fraser locked in an embrace with the young woman. “Constable Fraser!” she exclaimed.

Fraser and Dippy immediately pulled apart.

“Ah, good morning, Inspector,” said Fraser, tugging at the collar of his red tunic with his forefinger. “Er, um, this is Serendipity Turnbull, Constable Turnbull’s sister. She arrived here last night. We were just about to leave for the hospital.”

“Oh,” replied Meg, trying to hide her relief.

“Serendipity, this is Inspector Margaret Thatcher,” Fraser introduced his superior officer.

Meg began to lift her hand for a handshake, but before she had chance, Dippy bowed her head, crossed one foot behind the other and dropped into a deep curtsey in front of her. Meg looked at Fraser in surprise.

“Inspector Thatcher,” began Dippy, without lifting her head. “It is an honour to meet you.”

“Please, Miss Turnbull, you can stand,” said Meg in embarrassment. 

Gingerly, Dippy stood up. “I’ve heard so much about you from Renfield,” smiled Dippy. 

“All good, I hope?” replied Meg, awkwardly.

“Oh, yes, of course,” smiled Dippy. “My brother looks up to you so much, you are, like, a true inspiration to him,” she gushed. 

Meg felt her cheeks flush red. “I…I…I don’t know that I deserve…” she began, but she hadn’t realised quite how much Dippy liked to talk.

“My brother writes to me every week,” continued Dippy. “Well, not every week, but most weeks. At least once a month, although it takes forever for the mail to get to me. He knows I like to hear all about the exciting life he leads here in Chicago. I wish I could be just like you. Well, not a Mountie, but I mean I want to be a woman like you, a leader of, well, a leader of men, I guess. And women. A leader of something, you know what I mean, right?”

Meg opened her mouth to speak, but she had no chance of getting a word in. She felt so uncomfortable being showered with praise like this, especially after what had happened to Turnbull. She had been up all night trying to convince herself that it wasn’t entirely her fault that her junior officer was lying in hospital.

“I’m stuck up in the Territories for now,” continued Dippy, who had barely paused for breath, “but one day I want to move to California because, like, that’s my favourite place in the whole world, although I’ve never actually been there, but it looks so cool and when I do go there I just hope my boss is as amazing as you, Inspector, because…”

“We should probably get ready to leave,” Fraser said suddenly, sensing how uncomfortable Meg was with the situation.

“Oh, right, sure,” agreed Dippy. “Give me five minutes,” she added and ran up the stairs.

There was a moment’s awkward silence between Fraser and Thatcher. Finally Meg spoke. 

“Fraser,” she began, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and…and if, I mean, when Constable Turnbull returns to active duty, I shall no longer be placing him on sentry duty for any reason. Nor you, for that matter. It’s unnecessary at these premises; we’re set back from the road and…” she trailed off.

“Sir, it wasn’t your fault,” said Fraser, earnestly. He felt that she’d suffered enough guilt already and it wasn’t worth dwelling on it now.

“I sent him out there like a naughty boy!” exclaimed Meg. “And look what happened. Of course it’s my fault.”

Fraser didn’t quite know what to say.

“I treat you both badly sometimes, I realise that,” she continued, bowing her head slightly. “And I spent hours last night trying to work out why, but I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you from where I’m standing,” replied Fraser. He wanted to hold her in his arms now, but this was different to the comfort he’d provided Dippy just a few minutes ago. His lips parted, he wanted to say something else, but he couldn’t form a sentence.

The corners of Meg’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Thank you, Fraser,” she said quietly. It felt good to know she had his support. On the day of the shooting she’d seen the anger in his eyes and it had scared her. She understood why, though, and now that anger seemed to have disappeared and been replaced by a look she’d seen so many times before, but which she could never quite explain.

The moment was shattered by the shrill ringing of the phone on the desk in the hall. Thatcher grabbed the receiver. “Canadian Consulate,” she announced. “Yes, speaking.”

Fraser was about to leave, but he noticed the worried look that crossed her face and decided to stay. Meg spoke for a few minutes before ending the call and taking a deep breath as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“What is it?” asked Fraser with concern.

“That was Ottowa, there’s been another shooting,” Meg began. “Another Mountie, at some kind of carnival parade in Cincinnati yesterday. A Constable Malcolm Conti was shot in the leg. He’s OK, but it’s too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? Hundreds of people there and the only person to be shot was the Mountie. Ottowa have issued an alert to all the Consulates in the States.”

Fraser drew a deep breath as he took in the significance of the information. “It does appear that we are being targeted,” he said, slowly.

“I’m going to call my contact in Intelligence,” said Meg, turning to head towards her office. “If there’s someone with a vendetta against the RCMP, they’ll know about it.”

“And I will call Detective Vecchio,” said Fraser, picking up the phone. “It seems unlikely that the shooter will return here, not if he’s already moved on to Ohio, but we should be vigilant nonetheless.”

xXxXx

“Ice Queen said I’d find you here.” Ray glanced over towards Turnbull’s hospital room before sitting himself down next to Fraser on the hard, plastic chair in the corridor. “How’s Dippy this morning?”

“She’s doing as well as can be expected,” replied Fraser. “I think she had some difficulty sleeping.”

Ray nodded. He had difficulty sleeping every night so he knew exactly how Turnbull’s sister felt. “So, er, Welsh has offered you guys a safe house.”

“No,” replied Fraser, quickly. “We’re police officers and we have our wits about us. Constable Turnbull was taken by surprise, it won’t happen again. Besides, it appears that a pattern is forming. There’s no reason to suspect the perpetrator will return to Chicago for a second bite of the tree.”

“Bite of the apple, Fraser,” Ray pointed out.

“Yes, yes, bite of the apple…bite of the apple…” repeated Fraser.

“It’s OK,” continued Ray. “I already figured you’d say that. Er, I got the ballistics report from Cincinatti. Same gun, same bullets, no doubt about it.”

Fraser nodded slowly. Part of him had hoped the two incidents were not linked, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t be the case at all.

“How long’s she been in there?” asked Ray, nodding to the door of Turnbull’s room.

“Almost an hour,” replied Fraser. “I thought it best to give her some privacy. She was quite upset when she first saw him.”

“It’s hard,” nodded Ray in agreement. “No trace of her folks yet?”

Fraser shook his head slowly. “Serendipity did suggest the name of a tribal elder who lives in the vicinity of their last known location,” he explained. “Apparently this particular tribe possess something known as a ham radio.”

Ray grinned. “So even the Inuit are using illegal channels these days,” he replied.

“Oh dear,” mumbled Fraser.

xXxXx

“I just kept telling him I loved him.” Dippy sat on the sofa with Diefenbaker and talked about her visit to the hospital. Dief lay with his head resting his head in her lap and Dippy gently stroked his ears. “I told him we were all proud of him and that he was brave and that we loved him and I told him that Mum and Dad would be here soon once we, like, find some way of contacting them and I told him I’d made breakfast and…”

“As the nurses said, the sound of your voice may be getting through to him,” Fraser said quickly before she had a chance to recount the entire one sided conversation she’d had with her unconscious brother.

“I know, how weird is that?” replied Dippy with half a smile. “I mean, he’s, like, asleep, but he might actually be able to hear me! That’s so cool. I mean it’s not cool that he’s asleep, but if he can really hear me and just talking to him is gonna help him to, like, wake up then I can totally do that if I need to.”

“I imagine you could,” agreed Fraser.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” asked Dippy suddenly. “Ray’s picking me up at four. We’re going to an early showing and then I think we’re gonna come back here and, like, order pizza. Are you sure you don’t want to come see the movie with us?”

“No, thank you kindly,” replied Fraser. He wanted to stay at the Consulate and look at the RCMP files just in case he could find anyone with a particular grudge against Mounties who had any connection to the cities of Chicago and Cincinnati. It was a long shot – the locations for the shootings could simply be random – but it was worth looking into. Besides the movie they were going to see did not interest Fraser at all. 

Dippy leapt up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it awkwardly so she could read the time. “Sorry,” she said, noticing him wince as the bones in his wrist were pulled in directions they were not meant to. “I can’t read the time unless I’m looking at it properly,” she tried to explain. “I mean, like, if I look at a clock upside down it could be ten past nine, but to me it looks like a quarter past eight.”

“Indeed,” nodded Fraser, visualising her example on a clock face in his mind. “Usually I find the numbers on the dial are a useful visual aid,” he said.

“I know,” agreed Dippy, “but then the six could be a nine, right? See how easy it is to get it all wrong. I do it all the time, that’s why I bought this digital watch.” She pulled up her sleeve to show him the pink, plastic watch strapped to her wrist.

“If you have a watch of your own, why did you need to consult mine?” asked Fraser.

“Oh, mine keeps telling me it’s, like, totally the wrong time,” she explained. 

Fraser frowned and looked closely at Dippy’s watch. “It appears to be set to a different time zone,” he said. “I’ll adjust it for you.”

“You will?” she replied, excitedly, unstrapping it from her wrist and handing it to the Mountie. “Oh thank you, it’s been driving me crazy. I pressed all the buttons, like, a hundred times, but it just kept flashing the numbers at me and then I must have set the alarm because it kept beeping, so I pressed all the buttons again and, like, it stopped beeping, but it still showed the wrong time. You’re the best Mountie I ever met. Well, apart from Ren, of course and Inspector Thatcher is pretty amazing too and I once met this Mountie when I was out with my parents tracking cougars and he could do this amazing thing with two sticks and some pemmican…”

“Dippy, you were going to get ready to go out,” prompted Fraser. He gave her watch back to her, the display now properly adjusted.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Dippy. She ran out of the room, almost bumping straight into Inspector Thatcher who was coming out of her office. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, curtseying to the Inspector before running up the stairs.

“I wish she would stop doing that,” said Meg as she walked into the room, frowning uncomfortably.

“She looks up to you,” replied Fraser. “You are somewhat of a role model to her.”

Meg shook her head. “Well I shouldn’t be,” she said. “I wouldn’t be if…if she knew some of the things I…” she trailed off and let out a slow sigh. She was fighting hard not to allow the guilt to consume her. “How is Constable Turnbull today? I wanted to visit the hospital myself, but I’ve been on the telephone most of the day.”

“Constable Turnbull’s condition remains unchanged,” replied Fraser. “Serendipity spent some time with him today.”

“I see,” replied Meg. She turned to go, but then realised she had a fax in her hand. “Oh, this is what I wanted to tell you,” she said, thrusting the piece of paper towards Fraser. “Ottawa have given me three names, three possible suspects.”

Fraser scanned down the fax and nodded slowly. “Jonathan Bell,” he read aloud. “His son was killed in a high speed chase with police in Halifax and Mr Bell blames the RCMP. Andrew McGarratt. Brother committed suicide in police custody in Saskatchewan having been arrested on a murder charge he was subsequently cleared of posthumously and… Bernard Wilson. Wife left him to marry an RCMP officer who investigated a burglary at their house in Montreal.”

“All three have a history of causing trouble for the RCMP,” explained Meg. “Sending hate mail, writing letters to local newspapers, that sort of thing. Wilson has even organised protests outside police stations at various locations.”

“Hmm,” pondered Fraser. “It’s quite a leap from writing an angry letter to attempted homicide.”

“I agree,” noted Meg. “However, all three have dropped off the radar. We have people checking up on potential trouble makers regularly, you know the procedure, but these three men have been noticeably absent in the last couple of weeks.”

“I see,” replied Fraser. His tongue darted out and slowly moistened his lower lip as he thought about the implications of the information.

Meg was mesmerised. She’d seen him do it many times before – it was one of his regular little habits – but it never failed to stir feelings inside of her that she knew she could not afford to give in to. Her mind wandered like it did so many times. What if…

A knock at the door broke into her thoughts and brought her back to reality with a thud.

“Ah, Ray,” said Fraser as he opened the door to find his partner standing there. “You should see this.” He handed Ray the fax and closed the door.

Ray whistled as he read the details. “So you figure one of these guys is the shooter?” he asked.

“We have no concrete evidence at this juncture,” replied Fraser. 

“However, we would like to speak to each of them as soon as possible,” added Meg. “We’ve got people on it. As soon as I have any more information I’ll let you know.”

“I thought I heard the door!” Dippy ran down the stairs with a huge smile on her face. 

Meg quickly went back to her office before she had to talk to Turnbull’s sister again.

“Ready?” asked Ray.

Dippy nodded. “I can’t wait to see this movie,” she grinned. “It’s got that cute guy in it, you know, the one from that show. Not the one with, like, the three guys with the stupid hair, the other one, right? And it’s got that other girl in it who used to play the little sister in that show with the cars. I totally loved that show when I was a kid.”

Fraser stared open mouthed and looked desperately at Ray for an explanation, but Ray was none the wiser and just shrugged.

“Come on,” said Ray, wondering if they’d ever get out of the door. “And I’m not letting you out of my sight this time.”

xXxXxXx

“I can’t believe you, like, didn’t cry at the end, it was so sad!” Dippy was still wiping tears from her eyes as Ray parked the GTO outside the Consulate.

“Er, to be honest I thought the alien deserved to die,” replied Ray. “He did kill that couple in the barn.”

“Oh, I know, but they, like, totally got in his way,” replied Dippy. “He was just trying to contact his friends and he was lonely. If those horrid scientists hadn’t stolen his magic stone…”

“I think that was a bomb,” said Ray.

“Was it?” Dippy frowned. “Oh, I didn’t get that part anyway.”

Ray shook his head and laughed to himself. Dippy had talked through most of the film and he was surprised she had come out with any clue about the plot at all. He opened the car door for her and they walked up the path to the Consulate together. Ray noticed that there were no lights on and wondered where his buddy could be. “Ya did tell Fraser we were gonna come back here to eat, didn’t ya?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Dippy. “At least I think I did. Maybe I didn’t? Sometimes I, like, do that thing where you imagine you’ve said something to someone, but you totally think you really said it to them and then when you ask them and they, like, don’t know what you’re talking about you think they’ve, like, gone crazy.”

“Sshhh,” said Ray, suddenly and drew his gun from his holster. “Stay back.”

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Dippy, suddenly scared. “Do you think something’s happened?”

“Dunno yet,” hissed Ray. He approached the door slowly and listened, but he couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no reply. Ray re-holstered his gun and took out his wallet. 

Dippy was puzzled as to why he’d need money right now. She watched in silent amazement as Ray slid the card down between the door and the door frame and with a quick flick of the door handle, the door opened.

Ray slowly stepped inside, gun in hand again now. He held his breath, hoping that nothing bad had happened. His instincts were sending him mixed signals and he didn’t like it. Suddenly, the light in the hallway came on and Ray’s head snapped round to see Dippy had flicked the switch.

“What the hell are you doin?” he yelled at her.

“Well it was, like, dark,” replied Dippy. 

Ray was about to yell some more, when Dippy walked over to the front desk and smiled. “Oh look, Fraser left a note,” she said, tearing open the envelope with Ray’s name on it.

“Give that here,” snapped Ray and snatched it out of her hand. He quickly read the handwritten message. “Oh,” he said quietly, putting his gun away again. “Fraser, er, took the Ice Queen home. He says to order the pizzas, he won’t be long.”

Dippy frowned. “You don’t think much of the Inspector, do you,” she noted. 

Ray shook his head. It was the truth, he didn’t. He’d seen that she could be a good cop when she wanted to be, but it seemed that most of the time she just wanted to be some kind of tyrannical boss. He knew that Dippy admired her, though, and he didn’t want to get into an argument with her so he changed the subject.

“Any word from your folks, yet?” he asked.

Dippy’s mood changed dramatically and Ray wished he hadn’t mentioned it.

“No,” she said. “I really wish they wouldn’t go on these stupid expeditions. I said to my Dad once before, what if something happens and we need to, like, contact you. He just, like, laughed it off. He never listens. All they think about is whatever dumb research project thingy they’re working on. They never think about me and Ren. It’s like they don’t, like, understand me at all. I can’t talk to my Mum every day like other girls can. I just miss her all the time.”

“Jeez, er, I’m sorry,” said Ray. He was stunned by how sad Dippy looked as she spoke about her parents. “Y’know, me and my folks have had, er, some problems over the years. It’s my dad, mostly. They moved away and, um, well they’re back in town now, but it’s hard to talk to him sometimes.”

Dippy nodded slowly and tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“Hey,” said Ray, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Let’s, er, let’s talk about somethin’ else.”

Dippy nodded and leaned into his shoulder. “You’re so nice,” she said. “Why haven’t you been, like, snapped up already?”

“Er, well actually I’m divorced,” replied Ray.

“What?” exclaimed Dippy, breaking away from his hold to look at him in surprise. “No…really? You’re divorced? Oh my god. If I was your wife I would never, like, get divorced. Unless you cheated on her, or something, or, like, you were beating on her. You didn’t, did you? I mean, I can’t imagine for a minute that you would do either of those things, but some guys can seem real nice on the outside, but underneath it all they’re real bastards.”

“No, it was nothing like that,” replied Ray. “We, er, we just grew apart I guess.”

“That sucks,” noted Dippy.

Ray smiled ruefully. That was possibly the most succinct and yet the most accurate thing he’d heard her say since he’d met her. “Sure does,” he agreed.

Then before Ray had time to react, Dippy had her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to his.

“What…what…” Ray squirmed and tried to pull away, but she had him pinned against the wall. He quickly grabbed her arms and managed to duck and sidestep until he was free. “What the hell?” He exclaimed and he waved his hands in the air in disbelief.

Dippy looked horrified. She clasped both her hands to her mouth. “Oh…” she whimpered. “I’m…I’m sorry…” she broke down into floods of tears and spun round as fast as she could, heading for the stairs.

“Wait,” Ray called after her. “Let’s talk about this.” He already regretted yelling at her. Dippy was young, naïve and vulnerable and she’d realised straight away that she’d made a mistake. Getting angry wasn’t going to help, Ray knew that, but it had been his gut reaction.

He reached out to pull her back, but she was moving too fast and she already had once foot on the first step. “God, I’m so…so…” she sobbed and tried to run up the stairs, but somehow she lost her footing and slipped, banging her head on the wall as she fell.

“Dippy!” exclaimed Ray with concern and he tried to help her to her feet.

At that moment, the front door opened and Fraser and Diefenbaker appeared.

“Leave me alone!” yelled Dippy and ran up the stairs.

A stunned Fraser watched her go and then looked to Ray for an explanation.

Ray hung his head and stood with one hand on his hip. “She…” he hesitated, wondering if he should keep what had happened private, but then he realised he was out of his depth with this one. He needed Fraser’s help, or, more accurately, Dippy needed it. “She kissed me,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh dear.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Serendipity.” Fraser knocked on the door of the Royal Bedroom and waited for a reply. “Dippy.” He called again. “May I please come in?” Fraser could hear her sniffing and sobbing on the other side of the door. He glanced down at Dief, sadly. 

Dief yapped.

“I realise that,” responded Fraser, “but it’s impolite to simply barge into a lady’s bedroom.”

Dief yapped again, jumped up and pulled down on the door handle with his foot. The door swung open and the wolf bounded into the room and jumped up on the bed.

Serendipity was lying curled up in a ball with her face buried in the pillow. She turned her head slightly when Dief pounced and he proceeded to lick her tear stained face. With a small smile she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” she said, addressing Dief.

“I do apologise,” said Fraser, rubbing at his eyebrow with his thumb. “His manners appear to have eluded him. Although he is worried about you, as I am.”

“Please go away,” Dippy said quietly, to Fraser this time. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” replied Fraser, gently but firmly.

Dippy’s head snapped round to glare at him. 

“I understand that you hit your head. It would be remiss of me to leave you alone until I can be certain that you’re alright,” Fraser explained.

Dippy sighed. “I guess Ray, like, told you what I did.”

“Yes,” replied Fraser. He sat down on the edge of the bed and Dippy rolled onto her back. Diefenbaker jumped down and stood protectively at her side.

“I don’t know why I…” Dippy tried to explain, but she had no real explanation for him, not one that she could put into words. “I guess Ray hates me now, right?”

“Not at all,” smiled Fraser. 

“Is he still here?” she asked. “Or did he, like, run outta the door.”

“He thought it would be best if he left,” Fraser explained. “But we talked briefly and he wanted me to assure you that he’ll be back here in the morning.” He gently brushed the hair away from Dippy’s forehead with his fingertips to reveal a large bruise that was rapidly turning a variety of yellows and purples.

“Is it bad?” she asked. “Have I, like, got a black eye? ‘Coz I did that before when I slipped carrying logs for the fire. I nearly knocked myself out and then there was that time when I tripped over the rug and smashed the teapot and cut my finger open – look, I still have the scar.”

Dippy held up her forefinger to Fraser to show him the evidence. He was about to say something, but of course she hadn’t finished talking.

“I’m so clumsy, I can’t help it, although, my brother is worse than me,” she continued. “I mean, like, I’m pretty good at hurting myself, but Renfield is always falling over, or dropping stuff, or falling down stairs. He broke both his arms when we were kids. Not at the same time, ‘coz that would be, like, totally the worst luck ever! The first time he fell out of a tree and then…I can’t actually remember the other time. Oh and I have to tell you about this one time when I was carrying a tray of cookies and I was about to open the kitchen door and he opened it from the other side and knocked me flying. I really hurt my butt, I can tell you and the cookies went everywhere. He felt so bad about it, but it was just, like, an accident, right? And then there was this other time when we were curling and he slipped and then I, like, slipped too and we kinda slid into each other and he whacked me in the face with his broom. Oh my god, that hurt! My dad always calls us The Clumsy Cabbages.”

“I had an uncle once who died wrapped in…” began Fraser, desperate to get a word in edgeways. Then he realised that story was irrelevant. “Actually that’s not important right now. What is important is that I get you some ice for the swelling.”

Dippy nodded and Fraser headed downstairs, leaving Dief to jump back up onto the bed.

Fraser iced Dippy’s head and they talked for a while, or more accurately, Dippy talked and Fraser mostly listened. _At least I can be certain she doesn’t have a concussion…_

“I know I shouldn’t have kissed him,” she said. “I just…he’s so nice and we’d had such a great evening. I mean, I know it wasn’t, like, a date, or anything and I didn’t want it to be, but sometimes things just get confused in my head and I do something totally dumb and ruin things. I don’t want Ray to think I was trying to come onto him, or anything. I guess I’m just, kinda…kinda lonely.”

“Ray understands,” Fraser tried to reassure her. 

“We were talking about my parents,” Dippy went on. “I think that’s why I did it. Not that talking about my folks usually makes me think about kissing guys, ‘coz that would be, like, totally weird and creepy. I just mean that I feel kinda scared and alone right now. When we were kids and they, like, went on one of their expeditions I always had Ren to take care of me, but since he moved down here there’s just been me at home most of the time. I know I’m an adult and I can take care of myself now, but it’s hard sometimes. Do you ever get lonely, Fraser?”

“Yes,” replied Fraser honestly.

“They don’t get it,” continued Dippy. “They never did. That’s, like, the whole problem. They used to take us with them sometimes and we all had some really cool adventures out there in the wilderness, but then we got older and we had school and stuff so they thought we should just, like, stay at home. They’re not bad parents. I don’t want to make it sound like they were, like, cruel to us or anything.”

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t sound like that at all,” smiled Fraser.

“They just weren’t there all that much,” said Dippy.

“I understand,” said Fraser. “My childhood was also somewhat…difficult at times.”

“Oh hey, I’m sorry,” said Dippy suddenly. “I didn’t mean to...y’know…I just wish they were here and I wish my brother would wake up and be OK and…and…” 

“Ssshhh…” Fraser tried to soother her as she broke down again.

Dief whined and nuzzled against her face.

“I think you should get some sleep,” said Fraser. “It’s late. It looks like you will have some company tonight.” He nodded at Dief who was showing no signs of leaving her side.

Dippy smiled at the animal. “You’re the nicest wolf ever,” she said.

Dief yapped.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed,” she replied with a giggle. “It’s just the truth, that’s all.”

Dief made a quiet noise in his throat and made himself comfortable.

“Don’t tell your brother that we’re allowing this,” added Fraser as he walked towards the door.

“Oh my god, he would freak out about wolf hairs in the bed!” exclaimed Dippy. “Goodnight, Fraser and thanks for everything and I’m sorry and I’ll try to…”

“Goodnight, Dippy,” said Fraser quickly before she had a chance to get going again.

xXxXx

On his way to the Consulate the next morning, Ray worried that he might be met with an awkward silence. He needn't have worried - Serendipity Turnbull was not big on silences, awkward or otherwise.

"Oh my god, Ray!" she squealed as he walked in the door. "I was awake, like, half the night thinking you'd never want to have anything to do with me ever again!"

"Forget about it," grinned Ray, awkwardly. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but of course Dippy liked to talk about everything. "You made a, er, a mistake and, er, it’s no big deal, so , er…er, how's your head?"

"It's OK, I think. You can't see the bruise, can you? I tried to hide it with make-up. Fraser put some ice on it for me yesterday. It kinda reminded me of home which was weird 'coz I never thought I'd get homesick and I've only been away for like, three days. Do you really still like me?"

“Sure,” smiled Ray, laughing at how easily she’d gone off on a tangent.

"You are just the nicest person!" replied Dippy, throwing her arms around him. "I mean, that's what confused me last night," she added, blushing slightly. "I'm so sorry, Ray, I just feel all kinda weird right now and I really don't know why I thought I wanted to, like, kiss you, but I just did. I guess I got all confused because you're really, really nice, but you're totally old!"

"What?" exclaimed Ray, breaking their hug and feigning offence.

"Oh, that came out, like, totally wrong." Dippy blushed harder now. "I don't mean that you're old like an old guy," she tried to explain. "But you're, like, older than me, right? I mean, I'm twenty three and you're, like forty or something."

Now Ray’s ego was crushed. "Hey, I've got a little way to go before I'm forty," he said indignantly.

"Really? Oh well, you know what I mean," she replied. "And I don't really want a boyfriend right now," she continued. "I had a boyfriend back home and he was, like, cute and everything, but we just kinda got bored of each other I guess and then he, like, got this great job in Thunder Bay working at the docks doing, um, well I guess it was something to do with shipping. So anyway we broke up and I was, like, sad, but then I figured there's plenty of cute guys out there and...oh my god, I almost forgot..."

Ray was puzzled as Dippy suddenly ran out into the kitchen, although his ears were glad of the break.

She soon returned carrying a huge pile of cupcakes. They had more soft, white icing than actual cake and were covered in chocolate sprinkles and jelly stars.

"I made these for you," she explained. "To, like, say sorry for the kiss and everything."

Ray smiled awkwardly. He wished they could just forget it ever happened. "Thanks," he said.

“I figured if you were gonna be, like, really mad at me I could get you to like me again by baking cupcakes,” she giggled.

“I already told ya, just forget about it,” repeated Ray. “I still like ya, OK?”

Dippy giggled again and held out the tray of cupcakes. She took a step closer to Ray so he could admire her handiwork, but somehow managed to trip over her own feet and the cupcakes ended up all over the floor.

Dippy stared at the mess for a moment…and then burst into tears.

"Hey, it's OK," said Ray and he walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "It was an accident."

“But…but…but,” sobbed Dippy, burying her head into his shoulder. "I wanted to…to make you happy, but…but I just can't do…anything…right," she wailed.

Just then Fraser appeared from his office. "Oh dear," he said as he surveyed the scene.

Diefenbaker came bounding over to the pile sponge cake, butter icing and chocolate sprinkles and promptly began to eat up the mess.

"It's like all his Christmasses have come and once," noted Fraser, rolling his eyes.

"You'll make yourself sick," said Dippy, giggling through her tears.

Dief stopped eating briefly to yap a reply.

"Well actually I made them for Ray," she replied, "but I guess he would've let you have one. Right, Ray?"

"Er, sure," replied Ray with a wink.

Fraser shook his head in disgust. "Back home one furry night crawler would have lasted you a week," he said.

Dief woofed and whined.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," replied Fraser, glancing at Dippy who was looking shocked at the animal's coarse language. "I do apologise," Fraser said to her. "He's spent far too much time among some rather unsavoury characters."

"So what's the plan for today?" asked Ray. "Hospital first?"

"Actually I've just been speaking with the hospital," replied Fraser. "And I have some rather encouraging news."

Dippy held her breath as Fraser told her all about the conversation he'd just had with her brother's doctor.

"Er, OK, so now tell us what that means in English," said Ray when he'd finished.

"I'm sorry," replied Fraser. "In layman's terms, there are strong indications that Constable Turnbull is coming out of his coma."

Dippy squealed with excitement and flung her arms around a startled Fraser. "So he's going to be OK?" she asked. "He's really waking up?"

"It's still very early in the process," explained Fraser, peeling her arms from his neck. "But a definite increase in brain activity was observed overnight. They're going to run more tests this morning and attempt to stimulate further cognitive processes. We can visit him this afternoon."

Tears were streaming down Dippy's face again, but these were tears of happiness. 

Ray was smiling too. He and Turnbull didn't always see eye to eye, but the man certainly did not deserve what had happened to him, especially not following such a random act of violence.

"So how do ya feel about hanging out at the station this morning?" Ray asked. "Me and Fraser have really gotta put some hours into finding our shooter."

"The Police station?" asked Dippy excitedly. "Oh my god! I've never been to, like, a real Police station before. Well, I did the other night after…y’know…but that was different. Oh, Ray, that would be so cool! Is it dangerous? I mean with all those criminals, although I guess there’ll be, like, loads of cops there too so it’ll be totally safe, right? This is so exciting! What do I have to wear?"

"Er, just regular clothes," suggested Ray. He glanced at the combination of slightly faded blue jeans and equally faded grey shirt he was wearing. "Whatever you feel comfortable in, I guess."

"I feel most comfortable in my uniform," added Fraser.

Dippy smiled. "I totally love that brown uniform," she noted. "I mean, I love the red one too with those huge, baggy pants 'coz you look like a proper Mountie in it, but the brown one is kinda..." she trailed off and allowed herself a moment to admire the magnificent sight of Fraser, his perfect posture filling the brown jacket in all the right places. "Well, you look kinda hot," she added, blushing slightly.

"Actually I find the red serge much warmer," replied Fraser innocently.

"That's not what she meant," Ray pointed out with a grin.

"Oh," said Fraser. He cleared his throat with embarrassment and felt his cheeks flushing red.

Dippy giggled and skipped up the stairs to get changed.

"Just remember, buddy, it was me she kissed," grinned Ray.

"I have no idea what you're referring to," replied Fraser, tugging at his earlobe.

"OK, let me ask you a question," said Ray, his grin fading. "How old do I look?"

"Um, well that's very difficult for me to answer, Ray, because I know exactly how old you are."

Ray sighed. 

_This is gonna be one of those conversations I’ll wish I’d never started…_

"Well pretend you don't know exactly what day I was born and just tell me what you'd say if you had to guess,” he pushed.

"I'm sorry, Ray, but it's very hard for me to forget a fact once I know it."

"Just try, buddy," urged Ray. "Would you say that I look forty?"

"No, of course not," replied Fraser. "You're not forty yet."

Ray shook his head in despair. “I know that, but…” Maybe he’d ask Frannie later, or one of the guys… _yeah, one of the guys is less likely to give me a stupid answer…_

He glanced briefly in the ornate mirror that hung on the wall. Well, he couldn’t see any wrinkles, not bad ones anyway. Not ‘old guy’ wrinkles. Dippy was young and naïve – that much had been fairly well established in the last three days – so what did she know about it anyway? He didn’t look old at all and he could still attract women his age - or younger, if last night’s kiss was anything to go by – so all hope wasn’t lost quite yet. 

“Is there a particular reason why you asked?” Fraser studied his partner with concern. He recognised that look on Ray’s face and it usually meant Ray was going over and over something in his mind…which was rarely a good thing.

Ray decided he wanted to change the subject. “Nope, forget it,” he replied. “So, er, have ya ever thought about what it’d be like to have a, er, a sister…or a brother?” he asked.

“Yes. Often,” replied Fraser honestly. He turned away from Ray so his friend couldn’t see the loneliness that suddenly swept across his face.

Ray could have kicked himself. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. _Stupid thing to say to a guy whose mother died when he was a kid, Kowalski._

Fraser waved his hand dismissively, but he couldn’t say anything to back up the gesture.

“Um, I think my folks tried for more kids, but it didn’t work out,” continued Ray. He’d started the topic now so he may as well finish it. “I mean, I don’t think they wanted us to be like the Vecchios or nothin’…” he stopped and sniggered. “I’d have gone nuts growing up with so many people in the house.”

“Me too,” agreed Fraser. He often imagined what it would have been like to grow up with a sibling, but the thought of being one of four filled him with a slight sense of dread. 

“But, um, it would be kinda nice right now, as an adult I mean, to have…” Ray trailed off and closed his eyes. “Still, I’ve got you, right buddy?” he opened his eyes and grinned. “You’re the closest thing I ever had to a, y’know, a brother.”

Fraser smiled and nodded in agreement. He thought for a moment. “Each of us has our own experience of the family unit,” he observed. “Constable Turnbull and his sister had each other as they grew up, but it seems that their parents were frequently absent.”

“Yeah, weird that,” agreed Ray. “I mean, who has kids and then leaves them for days on end to go watch polar bears gettin’ down and dirty?”

“We really shouldn’t judge,” noted Fraser. “We only have Serendipity’s side of the story. Constable Turnbull rarely speaks of his family, but on the occasions that he has mentioned his childhood, he has made no reference to it being unhappy in any way.”

“I guess Dippy just ain’t cut out for the life she was born into,” suggested Ray. “Her brother is not like her at all…” Ray trailed off and his brow furrowed into a frown as he pondered his last statement. “Actually he kinda is. I mean, if you think about it, they’re more alike than Dippy would probably admit to.”

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser.

“There you guys are!” Dippy burst into the room. She had changed into a short, yellow skirt and a cut-off t-shirt that was so short even Francesca Vecchio would think twice about wearing it. “Are we, like, going or not?”

xXxXxXx

By the time they arrived at the Twenty Seventh, Ray had a headache. Dippy had talked at top speed for the whole journey. Even Diefenbaker had found it too much and he was deaf. Fraser had been trying to explain to Ray that he had found out more information about their three suspects, but Ray hadn’t been listening.

Dippy walked into the station with wide eyes. She had been here once before, of course, on her first night in Chicago, but it had been dark with only the night staff on duty and she hadn’t been thinking straight so she hadn’t really noticed anything about the station house at all. This morning she took in every inch of her surroundings with wonderment as they walked up to the squad room.

“We should never, ever, take her to Disneyland,” Ray whispered with a wink. “Looks like she might explode, or somethin’.”

“Agreed,” replied Fraser in a low voice. “Figuratively speaking,” he added.

Ray pulled a face. “Stop talkin’ Canadian, Fraser.”

“Sorry.”

Ray introduced her to Francesca. “Renfield’s sister?” she exclaimed Francesca. “Wow. I mean, I didn’t know he had a sister and we’re…well, y’know…” Francesca looked deliberately coy. “We’re close,” she explained.

“Cool,” smiled Dippy. She didn’t pick up on Francesca’s insinuation, much to the Civilian Aid’s annoyance. “Renfield is so lucky to have, like, soooo many good friends in Chicago,” she continued. “I think he was kinda nervous when he got this posting, but we were all, like, totally proud of him ‘coz this is such a cool place to get posted to and he has such an important job at the Consulate, right? You guys are all so great, I guess you all, like, hang out all the time.”

“Er…” Ray realised he shouldn’t try to shatter her illusions. The only time he had ever ‘hung out’ with Turnbull was when he was under arrest and unable to leave the Consulate. Dippy didn’t need to know that, though. “Sometimes we watch curling together,” he said with an awkward smile.

“Ren loves curling!” exclaimed Dippy.

“Can you give her a quick tour of the place?” Ray asked Francesca, as Dippy wandered over to the notice board and was momentarily distracted reading all the ‘For sale’ and ‘Lost/Found’ cards.

“Yes, Ray. Of course, Ray,” replied Francesca, sarcastically, making sure Dippy was out of earshot. “Because I don’t have anything better to do today like working on your case for you!”

“Please, Frannie,” begged Ray. “Just take her for half an hour. Fraser said he had some kind of, er, dirt on one of the guys. We need to check it out. I think you and her’ll get on great.”

Francesca sighed. “Half an hour, bro. That’s all.”

“Thanks,” grinned Ray and went to join Fraser who had already logged onto the computer on Ray’s desk, although first he’d had to find the keyboard which had somehow become lost under classic car magazines, police files and other assorted papers.

“This is what the Inspector and I discovered yesterday about one of the possible suspects,” explained Fraser, pointing to the screen.

“Jonathan Bell is ex-military!” exclaimed Ray. “Sniper? Must’ve had sniper training. He’s our guy, he’s gotta be our guy.”

“We have no actual evidence to that effect,” Fraser pointed out. “Although I agree, given his background, he is a person of significant interest. He has a sister here in Chicago. I propose we interview her as soon as possible.”

“He’s got a sister in Chicago?” repeated Ray. “C’mon, Fraser! This is more than a coincidence. The guy is a trained killer and he could’ve gone anywhere to bag himself a Mountie, but he has a sister in this city, so he comes here and, er, takes a pop at Turnbull. I bet he’s got another sister in Cincinnati, right?”

“No, Ray,” replied Fraser, shaking his head. “I can find no connection at all between Mr Bell and the location of the second shooting at this juncture.”

Ray slapped the desk in frustration. “OK, OK…c’mon, let’s go talk to the sister.”

“Ray, do I need to remind you of the need to approach this interview with an open mind?” said Fraser, picking up his hat and placing it squarely on his head. “This information in no way constitutes evidence to prove this man’s guilt.”

“I know,” agreed Ray. “Don’t worry, buddy, I know how to do the cop thing.” He was almost at the door when he turned back and called out to Jack Huey who was sitting at his desk. “Huey, when Frannie comes back, tell her me and Fraser have gone to shake down the shooter’s sister.”

“Ray!” exclaimed Fraser with a frown.

“Kidding,” Ray smirked. “Just tell her we’ll be back later.”

“I imagine Francesca and Serendipity are getting along very well,” added Fraser.

“Yeah,” agreed Ray. “Like a house on fire.”

“No, Ray,” frowned Fraser. “Very well.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” replied Ray. “It’s an expression.”

Fraser’s frown grew deeper. “Well it’s a rather nonsensical one,” he noted. “A house on fire is not something one would normally consider a good thing. Take it from me, I have some personal experience of such matters and the aftermath is somewhat…” but he was interrupted by Francesca running back into the squad room, a look of annoyance crossed with mild panic on her face.

“I’ve lost her,” she announced. “Dippy Turnbull,” she added, in case they needed clarification. “I turned my back for two seconds and she disappeared!”

Ray let out a growl of frustration. “That’s exactly what she did to me the other night,” he said.

“Honestly, she’s worse than Maria’s kids,” continued Francesca. “If I’d known you wanted a babysitter I’d have called Ma.”

“I suggest we split up and search the building,” said Fraser. “Despite your allusions to the contrary, Francesca, she is an adult. She can’t be far away.”

Ray nodded and they all headed towards the stairs, but before they’d had a chance to split up, a shrill sound pierced the air. They all froze to the spot. It was the sound of a scream.


	5. Chapter 5

“Dippy!” exclaimed Ray as he, Fraser and Francesca ran off towards the staircase.

“Where is she, Fraser?” asked Francesca urgently, following the Mountie down the stairs.

Without warning, Fraser stopped midway down and it was all Francesca and Ray could do not to crash into him. Fraser cupped his hand to his ear, closed his eyes and listened.

Ray anxiously hopped from one foot to the other, he wanted to run downstairs and search for Dippy. “Now is not the time for one of these freaky Canadian things, buddy,” he said with a sigh of frustration.

“Sshhh,” hissed Fraser. He listened for one more second before opening his eyes. “Follow me,” he said and set off again.

Fraser hoped his senses hadn’t betrayed him, because if he was right the situation might not be as serious as they’d first thought. “Serendipity!” he called out as they ran along the corridor. Then a voice answered. 

“Fraser, is that you?”

It wasn’t Dippy, though. It was a male voice, dripping with an Eastern European accent. A voice they all knew well.

“Good morning, Mort,” replied Fraser as they ran into the morgue.

The smell hit Ray immediately as it always did whenever they had to visit Mort. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand and was so distracted that he didn’t notice what had happened at first. 

Dippy was lying unconscious on the cold, tiled floor with Mort kneeling over her. He looked up as Fraser and the others arrived. “Do you know who this is?” he asked.

“This is Constable Turnbull’s sister, Serendipity,” replied Fraser, kneeling beside the older man and helping him gently roll Dippy onto her side. “Is she alright?”

“Yes,” replied Mort, checking her pulse. “She fainted, that’s all. She’ll come round soon enough.”

Ray and Francesca both breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened?” asked Ray.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t fast enough,” Mort explained. He glanced behind him at the examination table in the middle of the room. A dark green sheet covered the obvious shape of the body that Mort had been working on. “I tried to pull the sheet up, but I’m afraid she saw…well, everything,” he said apologetically.

“Oh jeez,” sighed Ray, running his hand through his spikey hair. He gingerly edged closer to the table, but turned away when he saw the tray of instruments Mort had been using for the autopsy. 

Ray had seen plenty of dead bodies in the course of his career, each one was one too many as far as he was concerned, but out there on the streets it was different. For some reason that Ray couldn’t explain, the sight of a victim lying where he or she had fallen, no matter how gruesome the murder scene, was nothing compared to seeing the same victim lying on Mort’s examination table. The thought of the things Mort had to do in the course of his work turned Ray’s stomach in somersaults.

“Is that, er, is that Jimmy ‘The Bull’ Bellini under there?” Ray asked, fighting a wave of nausea.

“Yes,” replied Mort as Fraser helped him to his feet. 

“I’ve seen the crime scene photos,” said Francesca, swallowing hard. The backs of her knees started to tingle and she wondered for a moment if she was about to join Dippy on the floor. “It was a mess.”

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser, nodding seriously.

“She just ran in,” explained Mort. “The door was closed, but she didn’t knock.”

“I’m so sorry you were interrupted,” said Fraser. “Dippy is staying with me at the Consulate while her brother is in the hospital. She is…well, she can be…” but he couldn’t find the words to describe her. 

Mort smiled. “It’s no trouble,” he replied. “I rarely get visitors. Perhaps we could be introduced properly one day? I’d like to apologise to her, it was no sight for a woman.”

Francesca frowned at his old fashioned attitude, but she understood that he hadn’t meant to be offensive in any way. The truth was that it was not a sight anyone should have to see, but Mort had work to do and the police had to solve homicides so that’s just how it had to be.

“I had no idea Constable Turnbull had a sister,” continued Mort.

“Neither did we,” shrugged Ray.

Dippy let out a quiet moan and turned her head slightly.

Fraser glanced back at Mort. “It would probably be best if she was elsewhere when she regains consciousness,” he said and he crouched down and gathered her up into his arms. 

Francesca held the door open and Fraser carried Dippy out of the morgue. Ray was about to follow them, but then he stopped and turned to Mort. “I have no idea how ya do this job,” he said, as another wave of nausea washed over him. “But, er, I’m glad ya do.”

Mort nodded appreciatively and Ray ran to catch up with the others.

xXxXx

Dippy blinked deeply. Everything looked out of focus and she didn’t know where she was. She blinked again and then the piercing blue of Fraser’s eyes broke through the haze. “Hey,” she said in a croaky voice. “Like, what happened?” she asked. Her mind was foggy and she couldn’t remember.

“You fainted,” explained Fraser, “but you’re alright now,” he added with a smile.

Dippy was on the couch in Lieutenant Welsh’s office. Fraser was down on one knee beside her with Ray standing just behind him. She blinked again and let out a slow breath.

“Fainted?” Dippy tried to remember. Then the fog started to clear. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “I…I remember now. There was…there was…” She started to gasp for air and push herself to a sitting position.

“It’s alright,” said Fraser supporting her by the arm. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“But I saw, like, there was a dead guy!” she continued. “It was totally, like, gross. And this…this other guy, he was…he was…”

“That was my good friend, Mort,” Fraser began.

“Your…your friend?” Dippy’s face clearly displayed her repulsion. “But…but…”

“Dippy,” Ray interrupted her before she became hysterical. “Mort’s our mortician. Ya ran into the morgue.”

“Morgue?” Dippy queried. “Oh, like where you keep all the dead people?”

“Well, er, we don’t exactly keep ‘em for too long, if we can help it,” replied Ray.

“Oh, oh so the dead guy was, like, a murder victim?” asked Dippy. Her panic had been replaced by excitement now and her eyes lit up. “That is so awesome!” she added. “And…and you guys have got to figure out who killed him, right?”

“Yes,” agreed Fraser. “Detectives Huey and Dewey have been assigned to this particular case, if I’m not mistaken.”

“So, have you got any, y’know, suspects?” she asked. “Have you got, like, a whole bunch of clues? I mean, like, fingerprints and stuff in little plastic bags like they have on TV. I love all of those cop shows. I never know who did it until, like, right at the end when the cops figure it all out from a strand of hair, or a receipt from a restaurant on the other side of town, or something. It’s so cool.”

Fraser glanced at Ray. They were both relieved to see that Dippy had recovered so quickly. “In this particular case there is only one suspect,” Fraser explained. “One of the victim’s former employees.”

“Oh, so was he, like, mad at the guy because he got fired?” asked Dippy. 

“Er, not exactly,” replied Ray.

“Have you interviewed all the other co-workers?” asked Dippy. “It’s just I saw this show once where it was, like, the quietest, most innocent looking girl who did it. Not the guy who everyone thought it was who was always, like, totally mouthing off about wanting to kill his supervisor, but a girl. She was mad because she wanted a raise and she totally didn’t get it so one day she just went crazy! What line of work was your dead guy in? On the show they worked in, like, a real estate office or something like that.”

“I believe the victim’s business revolved around corruption, extortion and execution,” replied Fraser with a straight face.

Dippy’s expression slowly turned from excitement to confusion and she looked at Ray for an explanation.

“Mob guy,” said Ray.

Dippy gasped. “Mob! Like, the real mob? Oh my god, do I have to, like, go into witness protection now?”

Ray sneered in disbelief. “No,” he replied incredulously.

“But I saw the guy’s face,” continued Dippy. “What was left of it, anyway,” she added quietly, trying to forget what she’d seen.

“You have nothing to worry about, I assure you,” replied Fraser encouragingly.

“Phew,” said Dippy. “Because I figure if I ever had to go into witness protection, or if I was, like, an undercover cop or something I’d probably screw the whole thing up. Like, forget to use my new name, or do something dumb like tell someone I just met all about it, because sometimes I just open my mouth and talk without thinking.” Dippy giggled.

“We noticed,” replied Ray, dryly.

Just then Francesca walked in with a glass of water. “Sorry I took so long,” she said and handed it to Dippy. “Glad you see you’re feeling better,” she added with a smile.

“Well if you ladies will excuse us, Ray and I have a lead to follow up in relation to the shootings,” said Fraser. He got to his feet and retrieved his hat from the Lieutenant’s desk.

“What? Wait, you can’t leave her here,” said Francesca. “Harding will be back soon and he’ll want his office back.”

“Er, we figured you girls were gonna hang out together all day,” said Ray.

“I have work to do too, you know,” replied Francesca, putting one hand on her hip in a defiant stance.

“I can help you,” said Dippy excitedly. “I was just telling the guys that I watch cop shows all the time so I totally know, like, what to do.”

“No!” exclaimed Francesca with a look of mild panic on her face. “I mean, thanks for the offer, but maybe we should just go and get lunch at the mall instead?”

“Sure,” agreed Dippy. “And I promise I won’t get lost again. Cross my heart. I don’t wanna walk in on someone, like, cutting up a dead guy again, that’s for sure. Although I guess that wouldn’t be happening in the mall. I mean, if it was that would be totally weird, right?”

Francesca turned her head so that Dippy couldn’t see her face and mouthed the words, ‘You owe me,’ to Fraser.

Fraser nodded slowly, wondering exactly what kind of payback she had in mind. He quickly realised that it was probably best not to think about that too much.

“Thank you kindly, Francesca,” he smiled.

xXxXx

Jonathan Bell’s sister lived in a respectable neighbourhood. The identical houses were all well maintained with well kempt lawns and perfectly pruned hedges.

Ray pulled the GTO over to the kerb. He glanced at Dief who was sitting in the back seat. “No peeing on the lawns,” he said. “These places have alarms for that kinda thing.”

Dief whimpered.

“Well you should have gone before we left,” retorted Fraser.

Dief whined.

“Then you’ll have to stay in the car,” replied Fraser and he opened the door and got out.

“Er, Dief’s not gonna pee on my upholstery, is he?” asked Ray, with a nervous glance back at his precious car.

“No,” replied Fraser. Then he thought for a moment and added another, slight less convincing, “No.”

Ray sneered, but it was too late to do anything about it as Fraser had already knocked on the door of the house. 

A woman opened the door and eyed the two men suspiciously. “Yes?” she hissed. She was wearing jeans and a pretty, green shirt and was wiping her hands on a towel. Her hair was neatly tied back with a metal clip and Fraser noticed she wore a ring on a chain around her neck.

“Lucinda Weller?” enquired Fraser. The woman nodded slowly.

“Vecchio, Chicago PD,” Ray snapped. He pulled his jacket away from his hip to reveal the badge clipped to the waistband of his jeans.

“Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP,” Fraser also introduced himself. 

“You’re a Mountie?” exclaimed the woman. 

Fraser nodded.

“Then you can leave right now,” she responded angrily. “Go on, get off my property.” She pointed down the path towards the road in case Fraser needed any further clarification.

Fraser glanced at Ray. He’d been afraid of a reaction like this.

“We’re here investigating a serious incident,” Fraser explained. “A shooting that occurred here in Chicago a few days ago.”

“So you figured you’d come round here and harass my brother,” retorted Lucinda. “Jesus. Don’t you people ever leave him alone?”

“Is your brother here?” asked Fraser.

“No,” she replied, quickly. “I haven’t seen him for weeks. Now go away before I call the police.”

“Lady, we are the police,” sneered Ray. “And we just wanna ask ya a few questions. Now we can do this the easy way and have a nice little chat now, or I can go away and get a warrant to search this place. Your choice.”

“Go get your warrant,” hissed Lucinda. “I have nothing to hide.”

“Please, ma’am,” urged Fraser. “This won’t take long. A good friend of mine is currently in the hospital and we’d very much like to apprehend the person who tried to kill him.”

“Your good friend another Mountie?” asked Lucinda.

Fraser nodded.

“Then whoever tried to kill him should have tried harder,” she replied coldly. As soon as the words had left her lips, she put her hand to her mouth and Fraser could see genuine remorse in her eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Fraser slowly moistened his lower lip with his tongue as he pondered the woman’s attitude. Clearly she held a deep seated dislike of the RCMP. Given what they knew about her brother and the circumstances surrounding his son’s death it was not entirely unexpected.

“My brother is not a killer,” Lucinda continued, her voice a little warmer now. “He may be many things, but he’s not a murderer. You people are the ones who killed my nephew.”

“I am aware of what happened to your nephew, Nicholas, and I’m sorry,” replied Fraser, genuinely. “But please, we’d just like to ask you a few questions. At this juncture we’d very much like to rule your brother out of our investigation.”

Lucinda thought for a moment, but then shook her head. “I have nothing to say except that Jon is a good man. If it wasn’t for what you people did to Nicky…” she trailed off. “Look, I don’t know anything about what happened to your Mountie friend and neither does Jon. Now please leave. My daughter is due home from school very soon and I don’t want her seeing you here.”

Ray was about to say something, but Fraser stopped him.

“As you wish,” he said. “But you do understand that we will return. If you think of anything in the meantime you consider may be of interest, please contact the District Twenty Seven police station, or the Canadian Consulate.”

Fraser turned and walked down the path back towards the car, just as the school bus was pulling up on the other side of the road.

“Her attitude stinks,” said Ray, stating the obvious. “Which kinda makes me think she’s got somethin’ she don’t want us to know.”

“Possibly,” agreed Fraser. “Although given the history, it’s not surprising she’s wary of contact with the RCMP. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”

Ray opened the door of his car and leaned across the roof to talk to his buddy. “The kid stole a car and went joyriding through the streets,” he said, glancing up at Lucinda who was walking out to meet her daughter from the bus. “Those Mounties had no choice. I read the report, they did everything to try to stop him safely, but you know how these things play out. The cops are not the bad guys.”

“Of course, Ray,” nodded Fraser, frowning through the car window at Dief who had found a half-eaten packet of corn chips in the back of the vehicle and was slowly munching his way through them. “And you also know that a grieving family in these circumstances, is naturally going to lay blame with the pursuing officers.”

Ray nodded and was about to get into the car, when he heard the screeching of tyres coming around the corner, just as Lucinda’s six year old daughter skipped off the bus and across the street. The next few seconds seemed to pass in and instant and all Ray could do was watch helplessly. 

“Katy!” screamed Lucinda and Katy screamed too, but Lucinda was frozen with fear and could do nothing to help her daughter.

Fraser, however, reacted instantly. He ran into the path of the car and snatched little Katy to safety. The car screeched to a halt, spinning around as it did so and only narrowly missing the school bus.

Fraser carried Katy back to the waiting arms of her mother and breathed a sigh of relief as he thought about what could have happened.

“Oh my god, Katy!” wailed Lucinda. She hugged her little girl tightly and sobbed into her neck. She looked up at Fraser. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

“It was no trouble,” replied Fraser. 

“You OK?” Ray called out from the other side of the street. He had the driver of the car on his knees and was slapping handcuffs around his wrists. “This guy’s off his head,” he added. “I’m calling it in.”

“We’re all fine here, Ray,” replied Fraser. He watched as the driver of the school bus jogged over to Ray to see if there was anything he could do.

Katy wriggled from her mother’s loving clutches and turned around to look at Fraser. She eyed him up and down, paying particular attention to his hat. “Thanks for saving me, I was real scared,” she said in a quiet voice. “Are you…” she trailed off and turned back to her mother with a confused look on her face. “Is he a Mountie?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Lucinda, awkwardly.

“But Mommy, you said Mounties were bad people,” continued Katy, frowning with confusion.

Lucinda felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

“He’s not a bad man, Mommy. He saved me,” said Katy.

“You’re right, honey,” agreed Lucinda, avoiding eye contact with Fraser. “He’s not a bad man at all.”

There was a pause. Fraser knew how delicate this situation was. The death of Lucinda’s nephew had left a huge hole in their family and in their grief it had been easy to lay blame with the officers who had been trying to stop him. From the brief conversation they’d had so far, Fraser had a feeling that the repercussions of what had happened to Lucinda’s family were still continuing. There were far greater consequences than she had meant to let on, although it had been obvious to Fraser and Ray that she was struggling to cope with whatever was going on in her life. Whether those consequences had ultimately led Jonathan Bell to attempt to kill Constable Turnbull remained to be seen.

“What happened to your nephew was a tragedy,” said Fraser, choosing his words carefully. “But you can’t blame the RCMP.”

Tears starting to stream down Lucinda’s face again. “I…I know,” she said. 

Fraser reached out and took Katy from her arms, allowing Lucinda to turn away and compose herself. Katy wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Fraser could feel the little girl was still trembling slightly and he gently stroked the back of her head to calm her. He felt sorry for the child, she had obviously been brought up to believe that Mounties and possibly all police officers were not to be trusted - perhaps even that they could hurt her - and now with the mindless actions of one drunk driver everything had changed. It must be terribly confusing for her, he thought.

Finally Katy’s mother turned back and looked directly at Fraser. “I’m sorry. It’s all been so hard for us since Nicky died and…”

“It’s alright, I understand,” replied Fraser. He paused, before continuing. “Now, about your brother…”

Lucinda took a deep breath. “Maybe…maybe we should go inside?” she suggested.

Fraser smiled. “Thank you kindly,” he answered.


	6. Chapter 6

There was still a lot of activity going on outside when Lucinda Weller handed Fraser a mug of camomile tea. Ray had left to take the drunk driver to the station for processing, taking Diefenbaker with him and two squad cars were parked across the street. A uniformed officer had already taken Lucinda’s statement.

“Thank you kindly,” smiled Fraser and he sat down on the sofa.

Katy was playing with her toys in the other room. Fraser could hear her excitedly telling her teddy bear all about how he’d saved her from being knocked down by the ‘naughty man’ in the car. The bear appeared unimpressed by his heroics.

“Sometimes I wonder what I’d do without this,” said Lucinda, sipping at her own tea. “Go completely crazy, probably,” she added.

“The calming effects of herbal infusions such as this one are well known,” replied Fraser. 

Lucinda nodded. “And staying calm has been a struggle lately,” she added with a sigh.

Fraser slowly dragged his thumbnail across his eyebrow, carefully considering his choice of words. “As I explained earlier, we are investigating a shooting incident,” he began. 

“And you think my brother pulled the trigger.” Lucinda folded her arms defensively.

“Not necessarily,” explained Fraser. “However he has made his feelings about the RCMP quite clear in the past and his recent movements are still unaccounted for. All of which makes him someone we’d like to speak to.”

“He didn’t do it,” insisted Lucinda. “I know Jon and I know he didn’t shoot anyone. All he wants is justice for what happened to his son. He wants you people to admit that what you did was wrong.”

“I…I can’t really comment on…” began Fraser, but he was interrupted.

“No, of course not,” Lucinda sighed heavily. She realised it was unfair to ask this one Mountie to make a sweeping statement on behalf of the whole of the RCMP regarding a single incident.

“I understand Jonathan had a career in the military, is that correct?” asked Fraser, keen to learn more about Lucinda’s brother.

“Yes,” nodded Lucinda. “It’s all he ever wanted when we were kids, just like our father.” She reached around her neck and pulled out the ring Fraser had noticed she wore on a chain. “This was Daddy’s service ring,” she explained. “He was a great officer, all his men respected him. He never lost one man under his command. Not one.”

“That’s a very impressive record,” noted Fraser.

Lucinda nodded proudly. “The only battle he ever lost was with the goddam cancer.” Her face fell and tears welled in her eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I lost my father quite recently,” said Fraser. “It’s not easy.”

“I can’t help wondering if Daddy had still been around, maybe Jon wouldn’t have gotten himself into all this mess?” Lucinda finished her tea and placed the empty mug down on the floor with a shaky hand.

“What do you mean?” asked Fraser. “What mess, exactly?”

Lucinda stared Fraser straight in the eye as she spoke. “Jonathan did not try to kill that Mountie friend of yours,” she said. “He couldn’t have. He can’t even look at a gun any more, let alone shoot someone.”

Fraser finished the last of his tea and Lucinda took his mug from him. “Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Lucinda with a shrug. “He was a good soldier, Constable. I mean, Jon was never going to be Daddy, but his career was going well. He was sent to some difficult places and he thrived on it. He was living his dream, but something happened over in Iraq. We don’t know any details, but when he came home he’d changed. He couldn’t talk about it and we couldn’t find anything out because the files have been sealed. For national security reasons, they said…whatever that means.”

“Changed in what way?”

“In every way,” replied Lucinda, sadly. “Emotionally he was a mess, his eyes had lost their sparkle, he even walked differently. He was a broken man. Whatever he witnessed over there affected every part of him.”

“Was he offered any help by the military?” asked Fraser. He’d started to feel desperately sorry for Jonathan Bell. He knew how badly some people were affected by witnessing atrocities during military service and it was a very sad way for a proud soldier to end their career.

“Some,” replied Lucinda. “They gave him a good therapist and he might have been OK in time, but then his wife decided she couldn’t cope so she left him. Nicky was only young and Marina felt she couldn’t deal with the mess Jon was in and take care of their son too. I was so angry with her at first. I thought she should have supported her husband, not left him just when he needed her the most.”

“It must not have been easy for her,” Fraser offered.

Lucinda shrugged and nodded sadly. “I know. Well then she met a Canadian guy and moved up to Halifax. Jon was devastated and went there too to be near his son, but he never really settled in Canada and the ongoing arguments with Marina affected Nicky badly. He started getting into trouble at school, running away, shoplifting, that kind of thing. Then he stole that car and… well, you know the rest.”

Fraser nodded. The whole story was so sad, but he was building a profile of Jonathan Bell. Mental illness, tragedy and loss all contributed to a picture of a man with a fragile and unstable mind. 

“I thought I’d lost Jon too after it happened,” continued Lucinda. “I mean, he completely fell apart, he barely spoke and he wasn’t eating or looking after himself at all. I insisted he moved in with us for a while, even though Katy was just a baby at the time, but I had no choice. He’s my brother and I love him.”

“It sounds to me like you saved his life,” noted Fraser with half a smile.

Lucinda shrugged dismissively and continued the story. “So one day he got a letter from someone who knew all about what happened to Nicky. He said there were many other similar cases and that he belonged to a group of people from all over Canada who had grievances with the police. Jon became fixated with the idea that he could get justice for his son.”

“The police are not above the law,” replied Fraser. “And a police officer who commits an offence should be punished as much as anyone. There are people with genuine cases against the RCMP, but in your nephew’s case the enquiry found no fault with the officers.”

“Well of course not,” retorted Lucinda. “You all close ranks in these situations. The RCMP are not going to admit they were wrong.”

“They were not wrong,” replied Fraser with determination. “Your nephew was driving recklessly, endangering many lives including his own. The police officers in pursuit were desperate to bring the vehicle to a safe halt before someone was killed, but Nicholas refused to comply and lost control at high speed. Please believe me when I say that the outcome would have been the last thing those officers wanted.”

Lucinda’s bottom lip quivered. “But…but he was only sixteen. He was just a child.”

“I’m sorry,” said Fraser. It was all he could think of to say. He waited a moment before asking his next question. “Is Jonathan still in contact with other members of the group you referred to?”

“Yes,” replied Lucinda. “He has made some good friends, actually. If anyone saved his life, they did, not me. I think it gave him something to focus on and over the last few years he’s rebuilt his life. He organises campaigns, puts families in touch with lawyers, or support groups. You should read about some of these people, Constable. The RCMP have got to take responsibility for their actions.”

“And we do,” Fraser assured her. “Every such incident is investigated fully and the RCMP accept full responsibility in cases where we are found to be at fault.”

“OK, OK, I get it,” replied Lucinda, abruptly. “But it’s very hard not to side with ordinary families like ours against the might of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It’s the little people against the Queen. Who do you think is going to win a fight like that?”

Fraser was getting uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in. Lucinda was becoming quite agitated and he still needed to ask her where he could find Jonathan Bell. The more he learnt about her brother, the more Fraser knew he had to speak to him soon.

“May I ask when you last heard from Jonathan?” Fraser enquired. 

“Last week,” replied Lucinda. “He turned up here unexpectedly. He has spent a lot of time here over the last few years and of course he’s always welcome, but I didn’t know he was going to visit. He didn’t call, he just arrived.”

“Did he explain why he was here?” asked Fraser.

“No,” replied Lucinda. “At least, he didn’t tell me the truth. He said he missed Katy and he wanted to see her. Katy adores him and they have a lot of fun together when he’s here, but I could tell that wasn’t the real reason.”

“How long did he stay?” Fraser asked.

“Three days,” explained Lucinda. “Then we argued and he left. I’m worried about him, actually. I suppose you’d like to know what we argued about.”

“Please, if it’s pertinent,” replied Fraser.

“I came home from work one day to find him fighting with another man in the house. I think it was one of his friends from the group,” began Lucinda. “I don’t know what they were shouting about; he left as soon as I walked in. Katy was in the house, Jon was meant to be looking after her for me and I don’t want my little girl exposed to that sort of aggression. So Jon and I argued about it and then he stormed out of the house. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Do you happen to know the other man’s name?” asked Fraser, hopefully.

“I’m not sure,” replied Lucinda. “Maybe Jon called him Alan? Or Andy?”

Fraser pulled out a folded photograph from his pocket. “Was it, by any chance, this man?” he asked. The photograph was of Andrew McGarratt, one of their other suspects.”

Lucinda narrowed her eyes and squinted at the picture. “I…I really don’t know,” she said. “I only saw him for a second or two.” She stared at the face again before handing it back to Fraser. “That might be him, I’m not sure. Who is he?”

“He is another possible suspect in the shooting,” explained Fraser. “His first name is Andrew.”

“So he could be Andy,” nodded Lucinda.

Then Fraser handed her a photograph of Bernard Wilson, the other suspect. Lucinda shook her head. “No, I’ve definitely never seen this man before. I’m still not sure about the first one, though. Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologise,” said Fraser, getting to his feet. “Thank you for talking to me about your brother, I realise it has not been easy for you.” He picked up his hat and turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Lucinda. “You don’t really think my brother had anything to do with this, do you?”

“I’m afraid at this juncture I cannot possibly say,” Fraser answered honestly. “If you hear from him, please call me at the Consulate.”

“I will,” promised Lucinda. “Thank you again for what you did today Constable. And I’m sorry about before. The last few years have been very difficult and I think my judgement has been clouded.”

Katy came running out when she heard the front door open and she smiled and waved at Fraser as he left.

xXxXx

“When are they going to call? They said they’d call, like, this afternoon.” Dippy was sitting by the phone at the Consulate staring at the telephone. She was waiting for the hospital to ring with news about her brother.

“I’m sure they’ll call soon,” replied Fraser encouragingly. “These things can take time.”

“And when they do I’ll drive ya straight over there,” promised Ray.

Dippy folded her arms and sighed. Then the phone rang. Dippy lunged forward to pick it up, but Fraser beat her to it. 

“You have reached the Canadian Consulate,” he began. “Constable Fraser speak…oh, hello, sir.”

It was Inspector Thatcher, not the hospital. Dippy sighed and walked out to the kitchen. All the waiting around for news was making her more and more anxious. She started looking through the cupboards for ingredients. Dief sat approvingly at her feet.

“Baking always makes me feel better,” she explained to the wolf. “One time, when Mum and Dad were stuck out in a snowstorm, I baked, like, a hundred cupcakes and a hundred cookies. I just had to keep busy, I didn’t know what else to do. They were starving when they finally made it home, though, so they were, like, totally grateful. I don’t think my parents realise how much I worry about them.”

Dief yapped a reply.

“Maybe you’re right,” Dippy answered. “So, what shall I make now?”

Dief barked and yapped.

“Well I was thinking of something healthier than cookies,” replied Dippy, shaking her head. “Fraser’s right, you are a junk food addict. What about oatcakes?”

Dief growled.

“They are not just for horses!” exclaimed Dippy. “You’re so silly sometimes.” She knelt down and made a fuss of him, rubbing his ears the way she’d seen Fraser do and stroking his neck.

“Yes…yes, of course,” Fraser was still talking to the Inspector, nodding as he listened to his superior officer. “No, everything’s fine here…right you are. Have a safe trip.”

“Ice Queen?” Ray enquired as his buddy replaced the receiver.

“If you mean Inspector Thatcher, Ray, then yes,” replied Fraser with a frown. “She is flying out to Ohio this evening to meet with Detectives from the Cincinnati Police Department who are leading the investigation into the shooting of Constable Conti. They may have a lead and the Inspector feels an RCMP presence is called for.”

“Fieldwork, huh?” said Ray. “I guess guilt does funny things to her.”

“Ray, this case is personal to all of us,” replied Fraser, earnestly. “And, despite my initial misgivings, Inspector Thatcher is not to blame for what happened to Constable Turnbull.”

Ray shrugged. “If ya say so, buddy.”

“Yes, I do.”

“And it’s got nothing to do with this, er, this thing you two have got goin’ on?” teased Ray.

Fraser’s face immediately went the colour of beetroot. “Thing?” he repeated, tugging at his collar in a desperate attempt to ease the tightening in his throat. “I…I…I…” he stammered.

Ray laughed and shook his head. “Forget about it,” he said.

“You are less than subtle at times, son.” 

Fraser’s head snapped round at the sound of his father’s voice.

“This is none of your business,” hissed Fraser.

“Hey, I said forget it,” said Ray, assuming Fraser was talking to him. _Guess I touched a nerve…_

“Ah, oh, er…” Fraser turned back to look at his partner. “I…I wasn’t…I mean, I didn’t…”

“It would be better if it was all out in the open,” continued the ghost of Bob Fraser. 

“No, it wouldn’t,” replied Fraser.

“What wouldn’t…what?” asked Ray, screwing his face up in puzzlement.

“Nothing,” snapped Fraser, quickly. “Nothing at all.”

“Greatness,” replied Ray, unconvinced.

“Keeping secrets from your partner is never a good thing to do,” Bob added. 

“I have nothing to hide,” Fraser half whispered.

“OK,” nodded Ray.

“If you can’t trust your partner with details of your personal life, then what can you trust him with?” continued Bob.

“I do trust him,” retorted Fraser.

“Who?” asked Ray. “Are you feeling OK, buddy?”

“Yes. You,” answered Fraser. “I trust you.”

Ray half smiled. It was good to hear those words from his buddy’s mouth - because sometimes Ray had dark moments when he thought exactly the opposite – but he wasn’t entirely convinced that Fraser wasn’t having some kind of weird Canadian breakdown right now. He knew how hard it had been for Fraser to see Turnbull so badly injured, maybe it had all become too much for him? “I trust ya too,” Ray said. “With my life, you know that.”

Fraser nodded manically. “Well,” he said, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “Well, I’m very glad we had this conversation, Ray.”

“Er, yeah, me too,” replied Ray. He couldn’t help feeling that he’d missed something, but for now he was content to give Fraser a friendly hug and let it go.

Just then the phone rang for the second time.

“Ah, the telephone is ringing!” announced Fraser with far more enthusiasm than the event warranted. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure his Dad had gone, Fraser picked up the receiver and introduced himself.

Dippy came running out into the hall, hoping that this was finally the hospital calling to say they could go and see her brother. “Is it the doctor?” she asked? “Is Ren OK? Is he awake? Can we go visit now?”

Fraser frowned, but said nothing. “There’s no one there,” he explained. He was about to hang up, when he thought he’d try one more time. “Hello?” He shouted down the phone. This time he could hear a faint voice. “Hello? Yes, this is Constable Fraser speaking…Fra-ser.”

“Who is it?” asked Ray, but Fraser waved a hand to silence him.

“I can hardly hear you,” the Mountie enunciated loudly into the telephone. “I said, I can…yes, yes…Fraser, yes. Ah, it’s very good to hear from you. Where are you? Where….yes…I see.” He turned to Dippy with a beaming smile on his face. “It’s your father,” he explained.

Dippy’s face lit up and she snatched the phone from Fraser. “Daddy!” she exclaimed.

“It’s a very bad line,” Fraser explained to Ray. “I believe they’re using the telephone at a science station on the banks of the Muskeg River.”

Dippy could barely hear her father over the crackling and whistling on the line and tears of frustration starting running down her face. She so desperately wanted to talk to her parents. She wanted to tell them all about what had happened, but she couldn’t make herself understood.

“Hey,” said Ray, pulling her into a hug and taking the phone from her hand. “Let Fraser try.”

Fraser nodded and put the phone to his ear again. “Hello?” he shouted. “That’s correct…yes…he’s still in the hospital…the hos-pit-al. No, his condition is improving…im-prov-ing…he’s getting better!”

Fraser shook his head in frustration.

“Tell them to get here, like, as soon as they can,” urged Dippy, pulling away from Ray’s arms. “Tell them I love them and I totally need them here.” She broke down again.

“Serendipity says she loves you,” Fraser shouted into the phone. “Yes…yes, as soon as you can. I understand…I said I un-der-stand. Yes…no, Chicago. Chi-ca-go!”

Then the line went dead and Fraser sighed.

“D’ya think they got any of that?” asked Ray.

Fraser glanced at Dippy’s tear stained face and smiled. “I believe so,” he said encouragingly. “Your father said something about catching a lift out on the next supply plane.”

“It’s going to take, like, forever for them to get here,” sobbed Dippy.

“At least they’re on their way now,” smiled Fraser.

Dippy nodded and sniffed. “I was gonna make oatcakes,” she said, heading back towards the kitchen with a sigh. 

Dief yapped and followed her out. 

“I thought you said you hated oatcakes?” she said, looking down at him. 

Dief yapped and whined a reply. 

Dippy’s face broke into a small smile. “I know you’re only saying that to cheer me up,” she said, “but thanks.”

Ray watched the exchange in disbelief. He was used to Fraser talking to the wolf, even though it was embarrassing when he did it in public, but Fraser was a freak and did freaky stuff all the time. Now to see Dippy have the same sort of conversations was just plain weird. _Maybe I’m the weird one?_ Ray pondered.

“You OK if I head back to the Two Seven?” asked Ray. “I’m gonna ask Welsh for some manpower to search for Jonathan Bell. From what you told me about him, we have to find him fast.”

“Agreed,” replied Fraser. “I’m not sure how he fits into all of this, although something tells me he is not the man who shot Constable Turnbull.”

“Is that a hunch you’re having there, buddy?” grinned Ray.

“No, Ray,” replied Fraser with a straight face. “Merely a conclusion drawn from the evidence presented.”

“A hunch,” nodded Ray. “OK, so if you need me to drive ya to the hospital later, give me a call.”

“Will do.”

“See ya soon, Dippy!” Ray called out and Dippy shouted a reply from the kitchen as Ray left the Consulate.

Fraser went into his office and started making notes about Jonathan Bell. He’d learnt a lot about the man from his sister earlier. Bell’s mental state at this time was questionable, but that did not mean he was a potential murderer. Especially not after the way Lucinda had described his complete and utter detestation of any form of violence, or the use of weapons. However, he was the only suspect with any links to Chicago and he was still unaccounted for.

Fraser picked up the photograph of Andrew McGarratt. If he had been at Lucinda’s house arguing with Jonathan a few days ago it was more than a coincidence. These two men were clearly involved somehow, but Fraser couldn’t quite fit the pieces of the puzzle together yet.

They had very little information on McGarratt other than he’d had a younger brother who’d died in jail awaiting trial on a murder charge. McGarratt had subsequently undertaken a campaign against the RCMP and had joined the same group as Bell, becoming actively involved in letter writing and other non-violent forms of protest. 

Fraser took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tapping his lips with his fingertips as he did so. A delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen and Fraser was about to go and check that Dippy wasn’t going to burn down the building when the phone rang. He hoped Mr and Mrs Turnbull had been able to find a better connection and were calling back, but it wasn’t them. It was the hospital, finally calling with news about their son.

“Thank you for letting me know,” said Fraser with a smile after the doctor had explained the situation and apologised that it had taken longer than he’d anticipated. Fraser put the phone down and went to give Dippy the good news that she’d been waiting for all day. 

Constable Turnbull was out of his coma.


	7. Chapter 7

“…and then the creep tried to, like…well Ray and Fraser saved me so it was OK, thank god, but I promise I’m not interested in drugs at all, I just wanted to do something exciting on my first night out in the big city. Oh and I met Inspector Thatcher and oh my god she’s so elegant! And, y’know, like, majestic. And your friend Francesca, I totally love her! She was so kind to me yesterday… ”

“Serendipity…”

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take Mum and Dad to get here, but when they do they’re gonna be, like, sooo happy to see you and can you imagine what Mum is gonna say when she meets Dief! You know she’ll want to, like, take him home in her bag or something, so…”

“Dippy…”

Finally Dippy realised Fraser was calling her name and stopped talking. She was sitting at Constable Turnbull’s bedside in the hospital, holding his hand and had spent the last fifteen minutes telling her brother all about the last few days. She turned to Fraser and smiled. “I know, I know, I’m talking too much,” she said with an apologetic grin. She turned back to her brother. “Sorry, Ren,” she said. “I’m just so happy you’re OK.”

Turnbull returned a weak smile. “As am I,” he replied in a croaky voice. “Are you…are you really here in Chicago?” His mind was still full of the weird and colourful images and strange noises he’d been experiencing since he’d been in a coma and he was having some difficulty now that he was back living in the real world. 

“Yes, silly!” replied Dippy, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m really here.”

“The nurse said you’ll be a little disorientated for a while,” said Fraser. “It’s nothing to worry about. You’ll be back to…er, to normal in no time.” Fraser hadn’t meant to stumble over referring to Turnbull as ‘normal’, but for some reason it hadn’t rolled off his tongue quite as easily as it might have done.

“I…I’m sorry, sir,” muttered Turnbull. “For neglecting my…my duties, sir.”

“You were in a coma!” exclaimed Dippy. “You’re not gonna get in trouble for being in a coma. It’s not like it was your fault. That guy shot you and then your heart, like, totally stopped and then your brain shut down and it’s taken a while for it to start working again. That’s right, isn’t it, Fraser?”

“Well, that’s essentially…”

“My heart stopped?” half whispered Turnbull. He remembered the doctor talking to him a short while ago, but the details of the conversation had completely gone from his mind already. 

“Yes,” confirmed Fraser. “You lost a lot of blood and went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.”

“You were technically dead for, like, four minutes or something,” sad Dippy, excitedly. “I mean, how cool is that? Not being dead, I don’t mean that, I mean that you were dead and you came back to life. Did you, like, see a light, or did you have one of those out of body experiences? Coz I read this magazine once and this woman died on the operating table, but they got her back and she said she was floating over her own body and she could see the doctors doing that thing where they give you an electric shock and she was, like, totally freaking out and…”

“Good god, son, where do these people get such ridiculous ideas? It’s nothing like that at all.”

“Dad! Er, I mean Dippy!” Fraser glared at his father who had just appeared in the corner of the room. Fortunately for Fraser, Dippy had been talking too much to notice his slip up, and poor Turnbull was struggling to focus on anything so Fraser could have called out any name and neither of them would have acknowledged the error.

The ghost of Bob Fraser walked around the bed, inspecting Constable Turnbull at close quarters. “He looks pale,” he announced. “Not a good colour for a Mountie. Mounties should have ruddy cheeks.”

“He only regained consciousness a few hours ago,” retorted Fraser, shaking his head. “Ruddy cheeks?” he added, half under his breath.

“The sooner he gets back on his feet the sooner he can help with the investigation,” continued Bob. “You and the Yank still haven’t got your man. What’s taking you so long?”

“This is not the time, nor place for this discussion,” scowled Fraser.

Dippy realised that Fraser suddenly seemed angry with her. “Oh… sorry,” she said nervously and mimed zipping her lips together with her thumb and forefinger. 

Fraser realised how his frustrations towards his father must have looked to her and he tried to smile reassuringly. “Just give him some time,” he urged and Dippy nodded silently.

“I do feel rather…peculiar,” said Turnbull. He stared at the blank walls of the hospital room and tried to piece things together. He didn’t even know how much time had passed since the shooting. He was sure he’d asked the doctor and then also asked Fraser, but he couldn’t recall either of their answers. Maybe he hadn’t asked at all? 

Turnbull shifted uncomfortably in his bed. He hated being out of uniform in front of Fraser and he hated feeling so weak and helpless. He tightened his grip on his sister’s hand. It was good to have Serendipity here, it was good to have someone’s hand to hold.

“Do you remember anything about what happened, Turnbull?” Fraser asked the younger Mountie, glancing around the room to find – to his relief - that his father had disappeared.

Turnbull frowned. “Not really,” he said. He remembered the searing pain and the feeling that he’d let everyone down - neither of those had really faded yet - but the reasoning behind both feelings currently escaped him. “What did happen, exactly?”

“You were shot!” said Dippy. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth and looked apologetically at her brother.

“Outside the Consulate,” added Fraser. “Unfortunately, although we have three suspects, the perpetrator is still at large,” he explained.

“I’m sure you and Detective…” began Turnbull, but he trailed off and his face fell into a frown. “Um, Detective, um…”

“Vecchio,” prompted Fraser.

“Yes, Vecchio,” agreed Turnbull. “I’m sure you and the Detective are…are, um…are…”

“I think you need to rest,” said Fraser. “Perhaps you and I should take a walk outside, Dippy?”

“Oh, but I want to stay,” whined Dippy. “At least until the doc says I have to leave. Please, Fraser. I promise I won’t talk.”

Fraser found it impossible to take her at her word. The idea of Dippy not talking was almost unthinkable. However, he couldn’t insist that she leave her brother’s side. Maybe Turnbull would be glad of the company as he slowly regained the use of his faculties? Fraser remembered how disturbed and disorientated he’d felt during the first few days of his own recovery. He’d been glad of Ray’s company – the Detective formerly known as Ray Vecchio - at that time. At least Turnbull was safe in the knowledge that his sister hadn’t been the one who shot him. 

“Is that alright with you, Constable?” he enquired, quickly pushing all those bad memories out of his head as he addressed his fallen colleague.

“Of course,” replied Turnbull. Another feeling suddenly came rushing back and he was overcome with emotion. “I’ve…I’ve missed you,” he said, smiling at his sister as tears formed in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you too, big brother,” replied Dippy and she took a tissue from the box on his bedside cabinet and wiped his eyes, smiling as she desperately tried to hide her own tears.

Fraser took the emotional scene as his cue to leave and quietly slipped out the door.

Dippy quickly composed herself. She was too happy to stay upset for long. She glanced at the door as it closed behind Fraser. “He’s sooo nice,” she said. “Fraser, I mean,” she clarified, in case her brother was in any doubt. “He’s kinda hot, too, but don’t worry, I don’t, like, see him that way. He’s just a friend. I know I’ve only known him a few days, but anything else would be weird. I mean, I kissed Ray and that was weird.”

“You…you did what?” Turnbull wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly, or if this was one of those disorientated coming-out-of-a-coma moments.

“Don’t worry, it was a mistake,” Dippy smiled. “It’s all cool. We, like, sorted it out.”

“Good,” replied Turnbull. He let out a sigh and began to wonder what else he’d missed. He made a mental note never to end up in a coma again.

xXxXx

“I said I was sorry, Ray.” Fraser glanced down at Dief and held the phone a little way from his ear while Ray yelled a reply.

Dief yapped and Fraser shrugged.

“I assumed you’d be awake at this hour,” continued Fraser, apologetically. “My mistake.”

Ray yelled some more before finally calming down and asking what it was that was so important that Fraser had had to call him in the middle of the night.

“Actually, it’s not the middle of the night at all, Ray,” said Fraser. He knew he was risking a further reaction from Ray, but he couldn’t help himself. “The sun rose some time ago. Anyway, the reason for my call is to inform you of an important development in the case. Inspector Thatcher telephoned from Cincinnati. The local police department arrested a certain Mr Bernard Wilson…surely you remember, Ray? The man whose wife became romantically involved with a Mountie…leading to the end of their marriage…our third suspect. Yes…yes, I know…however he is denying any involvement in either shooting. Well, yes, it is somewhat of a coincidence that he was in Cincinnati…yes…and even more of a coincidence that a truck driver has identified him as a hitchhiker he transported to the city from Chicago a few days ago.

Fraser paused to let his half-asleep friend take on board the new information. Ray asked a couple of questions, but Fraser had no more information. The call with Inspector Thatcher had been brief. She had been relieved to hear that Constable Turnbull was awake, but his recovery had only led her to another pang of guilt regarding the reasons why he had anything to recover from in the first place. After quickly explaining to Fraser that she was hoping to have the paperwork in place to transport Wilson back to Chicago for questioning by the end of the day, she had abruptly ended the call.

“I’m afraid she didn’t say,” Fraser replied with a frown when Ray had asked if Wilson had made any kind of confession. 

Fraser was still concerned about the Inspector’s mental wellbeing. The whole incident had taken its toll on her and the…well, the complicated nature of their relationship meant it was difficult for him to know how to deal with it. Should he ask if she was alright? Should he ask if she wanted to talk about it? Should he tell her that he was worried about her? Or was that overstepping a boundary? They had overstepped plenty of those before, though - one particularly big boundary came instantly to mind - so did it really matter? Fraser sighed. When this case was all over, if he still felt she needed him, he would make sure she knew he was there for her. He hoped she knew it already.

“As soon as the documentation is in place and a flight can be arranged,” Fraser answered when Ray asked about the timeframe involved. “The RCMP have no permanent Consulate in Cincinnati so it was felt that the Chicago PD should lead the investigation together with the RCMP, of course…yes, Ray, that means the Inspector and myself…”

Dief growled a low throaty growl.

“And Diefenbaker,” added Fraser, wondering exactly how a deaf wolf could hear the conversation at all, particularly Ray’s side of it. “I’ll see you at the station, Ray. And again, I’m terribly sorry for waking you. Please continue wallowing.”

Fraser replaced the receiver and looked up as Dippy came skipping down the stairs with a smile on her face. 

“That was the best night’s sleep ever!” she declared. “I’ll make breakfast and then we can go visit Ren. The doc said some more of his brain cells might have, like, switched themselves back on this morning. Apparently he is exhausted, which is kinda weird, don’t you think? I mean, he’s been asleep for days, right? The doc tried to explain it to me, but he was using all of these, like, totally big words that I didn’t understand so I have no idea what he meant. Morning Diefenbaker.” Dippy bent to rub his ears affectionately. “So shall I make waffles, or pancakes? I know you have oatmeal, like, every day, but that’s sooo boring!”

“Actually I rather like oatmeal.”

“Well I’ll teach you to like something else, you don’t want to get, like, totally stuck in your ways,” replied Dippy. “Variety is the spice of life, that’s what they say, isn’t it?”

“I believe that is a popular expression.”

“So…” Dippy was about to continue, but she stopped talking – much to Fraser’s relief – as there was a loud knock at the door.

Fraser went to open it. “Good morning,” he began with a smile, but his smile quickly faded. “Mrs Weller,” he said in surprise. “What on earth happened? Come in, come in.”

Lucinda Weller hurried into the building. She had her young daughter in her arms; both were dressed in just their nightclothes. Lucinda had a thin, yellow robe hanging loosely around her shoulders and little Katy was wearing pink Minnie Mouse pyjamas and she had bare feet. Lucinda’s hair was dripping wet and her breath was coming in erratic gasps.

“Dippy, please fetch some blankets from my closet,” Fraser instructed and Dippy quickly ran off towards his office.

“Someone…someone was…” began Lucinda, but she could barely get the words out.

“Come and sit down,” said Fraser with concern and he gently took Katy from her mother’s arms and led her into the reception room. The child clung to him tightly, burying her face into his neck.

Lucinda sat down on the large, leather sofa and Fraser placed Katy by her mother’s side. He was concerned that the little girl hadn’t made a sound. She was just staring into her lap, completely withdrawn from her surroundings.

Lucinda took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I was in the…the shower,” she said, “and I heard a noise and Katy…she screamed and…and…”

“Take your time,” urged Fraser as Dippy returned with two large Hudson’s Bay blankets. 

Dippy helped Lucinda drape one of the blankets around her trembling shoulders, while Fraser took the other one and wrapped it around Katy. As he did so, Katy winced and let out a quiet whimper.

“Katy?” said Fraser with concern. He’d been very gentle with the blanket, but it had obviously caused her pain. “Where does it hurt?” he asked and he knelt down on one knee in front of her.

Katy said nothing.

“Oh god… he did something to her,” said Lucinda and tears began to well in her eyes.

“Who?” asked Fraser, trying to coerce some information out of her about what had happened.

Dippy watched the events with her arms clutched tightly around her waist. She had no idea who these people were, but she hated seeing anyone this scared and upset. 

“I don’t know,” replied Lucinda. “I didn’t see. He was in our house – he was there with Katy – but…but…but he ran off when I came downstairs. I don’t know how he got in.”

Fraser turned back to Katy and pulled the blanket away from her shoulders. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries, but then he realised that she was holding her left arm awkwardly, resting her hand in her lap, but tensing the shoulder. “Katy, does your arm hurt?” he asked. He reached out slowly but she tried to back away. “It’s alright,” he said soothingly.

“It’s OK, sweetie,” said Dippy. She finally realised this was the little girl Fraser had told her about yesterday. Katy’s uncle might be the man who shot Renfield. Dippy recognised the fear in Katy’s eyes, she had been in some scary situations at her age – one incident with a bear sprung to mind - and those feelings could be overwhelming when you were young. “There’s no way Fraser is gonna, like, hurt you. I promise,” she said compassionately. “D’you see this?” Dippy lifted her hair away from the side of her forehead to display the bruise from the other night. It was fading now, but the dark purple shape with yellowing blotches was still clearly visible. “Look,” she urged,

Slowly, Katy’s curiosity got the better of her and she lifted her head to look at Dippy. 

“I fell up the stairs,” explained Dippy. “I’d just done something really dumb, so it was kinda my fault, but it really hurt and I was mad at myself for tripping over. Fraser helped me with, like, ice and he was really kind to me and he totally made me feel better.” Dippy smiled a huge smile when she’d finished.

The corners of Katy’s mouth twitched into a tiny smile in return.

Fraser watched Katy while Dippy was talking to her; Dippy seemed to have captured the little girl’s attention. Slowly, he reached out again and this time the girl let him touch her arm. He turned to Lucinda. “Do you think it was Jonathan in your house?” he asked her.

Lucinda paused before answering. “I…I don’t know,” she replied, wiping her eyes. “A few days ago I would have said no, but…but things have changed. He’s changed.”

Fraser nodded slowly. It was possible that Jonathan Bell had returned to his sister’s house. His mental state was somewhat of an unknown quantity, so in his confusion he may have caused harm to his niece without meaning to. “Can you move your fingers?” Fraser asked Katy.

Katy didn’t respond.

Fraser glanced at Lucinda with some concern and she sighed with worry and frustration. “Why is she acting like this?” she asked Fraser.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. He slipped his fingers into Katy’s tiny hand. “Can you squeeze my fingers? As hard as you can,” he requested.

Still nothing.

“Come on, Katy,” urged Lucinda, but even she was unable to garner a response from her daughter. “I can’t believe Jon would hurt her,” she said sadly to Fraser. “He loves her, he dotes on her, and she loves him too.”

Dippy walked over to Katy and sat on the couch. She took Katy’s other hand in hers and then grabbed Fraser’s free hand. Katy’s gaze followed her every move. “OK, sweetie,” said Dippy. “Can you, like, squeeze both our hands? Like this.” And she gave a good squeeze.

Katy hesitated for a moment and then copied Dippy.

Fraser was relieved at the strength in her grip. “Good girl,” he smiled, glancing gratefully at Dippy. 

“Now wriggle your fingers,” urged Dippy, releasing her grip and wriggling her own fingers. “Look, wiggly worms!” she said with a grin.

Katy hesitated again, but then she let out a tiny giggle and copied the action.

“Thank you, Katy,” said Fraser. He smiled at her, but the little girl’s gaze was firmly fixed on Dippy so she didn’t see the gesture. “Now I’d like to take a look at this elbow,” he continued, slowly rolling up her sleeve. Katy allowed him to do what he had to do, but still refused to look at him, or her mother.

“Did Uncle Jon do this?” Lucinda asked her daughter as Fraser carefully examined her arm. She was afraid of the answer, but right now she needed to know. However Katy said nothing.

“I’m always, like, hurting myself,” said Dippy, hoping to take Katy’s mind off the pain in her arm. “I can’t help it. When I was a kid I was always, like, tripping over my toys. I mean, I guess if I’d tidied my room more often…well, anyway now I trip over other stuff like rugs and stairs. I still have, like, loads of my old toys back home. What’s your favourite toy? Do you have teddy bears, or dolls? I love dolls. I like to fix their hair, have you ever done that?”

Dippy paused and waited for Katy to reply. She smiled warmly at the little girl. 

Finally, Katy nodded. “Yes,” she said in a quiet voice.

Fraser nodded appreciatively at Dippy. _Finally her incessant talking has been good for something,_ he thought to himself. He glanced at Lucinda as he wrapped the blanket back around her daughter. “No broken bones,” he announced and Lucinda breathed a sigh of relief.

“I love Minnie Mouse,” said Dippy, pointing to the character on Katy’s pyjama top before Fraser covered it with the blanket. “I love that bow in her hair, it’s sooo pretty.”

“Me too,” Katy half whispered a reply.

“Katy, was Uncle Jon at our house?” Lucinda was determined to get an answer. “Was it someone else? Come on, I need you to tell me. Who did this to you?”

Katy didn’t respond to her mother, instead she stared helplessly at Dippy, another wave of fear washing across her pale face.

“Lucinda,” began Fraser in a low voice. “May I have a word with you?”

Reluctantly, Lucinda left her daughter’s side and went out into the hall with Fraser. 

“Is she alright?” asked Lucinda, desperately. 

“She has some slight bruising, nothing serious,” explained Fraser. “From the position of the injuries, I believe the intruder grabbed her arm and she pulled away. If it’s of any comfort, an adult male could easily have broken a bone in that situation, which suggests he had no intention of hurting Katy.”

Lucinda nodded slowly. “So…it could have been my brother,” she said quietly. “He wouldn’t have hurt her deliberately. I know that. No matter what else he’s done, he would never have meant to hurt her.”

Fraser thought for a moment. If Jonathan Bell had shot Constable Turnbull and had since gone on the run, why would he return to his sister’s house? If it had been him, he must have had a very good reason to take such a risk. As he began to formulate theories, Fraser became aware that Lucinda was staring at him. It wasn’t uncommon for people to stare at him, but Lucinda’s face did not display the usual look of admiration he was used to.

For the first time since she’d arrived at the Consulate, the image of Fraser in his red dress uniform had struck her. “Oh,” she said and she looked him up and down. “Your…your uniform.”

Fraser looked down at himself, horrified at the thought that something might be wrong. “What is it?” he asked. “Is my Sam Browne twisted? That’s been happening a lot lately. I think it needs some more neatsfoot oil, it’s becoming rather stiff.”

“No…no, it’s just that…” Lucinda was struggling to put her thoughts into words. “You’re…you’re a Mountie.”

“Yes,” nodded Fraser, a little confused.

“Well, of course I know that already,” continued Lucinda, “but…but yesterday you were wearing a brown uniform.”

Fraser looked down at himself again and finally realised what she meant. Yesterday, when he’d first encountered Lucinda and Katy, he had indeed been wearing his brown uniform. While still a regulation uniform, if somewhat outdated, it wasn’t the most recognised look for an RCMP officer. However today, in full red serge, he epitomised the image of a Mountie.

“I’m sorry,” sighed Lucinda. “But for so long that very uniform has represented everything I despise. You personify the very thing I’ve been working so hard to bring down and now here you are and, well, here I am and I…I don’t know…I don’t know what to think any more.”

“But you are here,” Fraser pointed out.

“I was so frightened. I just gathered Katy into my arms and ran out of the house,” she explained, her voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t even put any shoes on her. Then I got into the car and started driving. I didn’t know where I was going at first, but then I remembered what you did for us yesterday, even though I said all those terrible things about you and…and…”

“It’s alright. I’m glad you came,” he said with a smile. “We need to find out who was at your house while there’s still a chance we can apprehend the intruder.”

He glanced back towards the room where he could hear Dippy’s voice interspersed very occasionally with one or two words from Katy. Dippy was telling her the names of all the animals she and Turnbull had ever owned and Katy commented on the ones she particularly liked. At least she’s talking now, he thought. A germ of an idea popped into his head and his tongue slowly moistened his lower lip as he tried to decide if it was a good idea or not. Eventually he realised it was the only idea he had, so he had no choice but to try it. “Please wait here,” he said to Lucinda and he pulled back the chair at the front desk for her to sit down. Then he went back to Katy and Dippy.

As soon as he entered the room Katy fell silent again.

“Serendipity, may I please have word?” he asked.

Dippy got up to leave, but Katy tightened her grip on the hand she was still clutching.

“It’s OK, sweetie,” smiled Dippy. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Katy released her hand.

Fraser thought it best not to leave Katy entirely alone in the room, so he led Dippy to the corner. “You appear to have developed a rapport with her,” he pointed out in a low voice.

“Does that, like, mean we’ve made friends?” Dippy queried. At Fraser’s nod of affirmation, Dippy smiled. “She’s a sweet kid,” she replied. “But she’s real scared.”

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser. “Do you…” he hesitated. “Do you think you could talk to her?”

“I am talking to her,” replied Dippy with a frown.

“I realise that,” replied Fraser, “but I mean specifically about what happened to her. We need information. It’s very important, but you’ll need to be careful. Her emotional state is very delicate.”

“Oh you mean you want me to interrogate her?” replied Dippy, excitement welling up inside her.

“She’s not a suspect,” Fraser pointed out. “It would be more akin to interviewing a witness. You are the only one she is responding to at the moment. Do you think you can do this?” 

“Oh, sure,” nodded Dippy enthusiastically. “I’m great with kids. One time these two kids wound up at our place in a storm and Ren and me, like, looked after them for a while. We played games and baked cookies and it was totally the most fun ever. Well, until they locked Ren in a closet.”

“Dippy…”

“I guess it was funny when you look back now, but Ren was kinda mad, even though it was his idea to get in the closet in the first place because they were, like, playing hide and seek, but he didn’t know they were gonna lock him in and eat all the cookies. He wasn’t really mad, I guess, just kinda…”

“Dippy, time is of the essence,” said Fraser, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“OK, right,” nodded Dippy seriously.

Doubt washed over Fraser as he envisioned Dippy talking about cupcakes and kittens for the next two hours.

“Now just remember, don’t push her too far too fast,” said Fraser. “She has been through a traumatic experience. I would suggest you start by…”

“Fraser, I can do this,” Dippy interrupted him. “I know how to talk to kids. You can trust me.”

Fraser looked her in the eye and was surprised by the determination he saw. For the first time since she’d breezed into their lives a few days ago, full of energy and childlike wonder, he realised that he could indeed trust her with an important task like this one. “I’ll be out in the hall with Lucinda if you need me,” he said and left the room, pausing for a brief moment to glance over his shoulder as Dippy sat down next to Katy and took her hand again. He nodded to himself. _This might actually work._


	8. Chapter 8

“So, er, what exactly are we looking for?” 

Fraser grabbed his hat from the dashboard of the GTO as Ray pulled it into the driveway of Lucinda Weller’s house. “Katy described it as a box,” he replied. “She said the intruder left it somewhere in the back yard; that was all the information she was able to give.”

“Poor kid,” said Ray as he ran up the path.

“She was very frightened,” agreed Fraser, running behind him. “The man told her not to say anything to her mother, or the police, which is why she refused to speak.”

“But Dippy isn’t her Mum, or a cop,” Ray said. “So I guess Katy figured it was OK to talk to her, right?”

“Apparently so,” nodded Fraser. He took the key Lucinda had given him and opened the front door. “Serendipity was very good with the child. I admit I had my doubts that she was up to the task, but she did well.”

Ray drew his gun and stopped Fraser going any further with a wave of his hand. “I can see Dippy being good with kids,” he said, lowering his voice. “She’s a big kid herself.”

“Indeed,” nodded Fraser. “There’s no one here,” he added.

“Sure?” asked Ray.

“Quite sure, Ray.”

Ray re-holstered his weapon and they walked into the house. Lucinda had left in a hurry and dirty breakfast dishes still lay in the kitchen sink. Katy had been colouring some pictures while her mother showered and the pens and pencils were scattered all over the floor. The door leading out to the back yard was wide open and the wind had blown her pile of half completed pictures across the room. 

Fraser and Ray made their way out of the open door. Ray glanced at the damage to the doorframe that had been caused by the door being forced open.

“Katy saw the intruder through the window and screamed,” Fraser explained. “It was then that he made his way forcibly into the house.”

“I guess he wanted to shut her up,” suggested Ray.

“She said it wasn’t her uncle, though. Right?” clarified Ray as they started to search amongst the plants and Fraser nodded. “Coulda been anyone. Even the toughest bastards develop a conscience about hurting innocent kids.”

They pondered the few details they had about their suspects as they searched for the box Katy had mentioned. All three had motive to want to kill Mounties, but none were obvious candidates for murderers based on what they already knew. 

“Based on the series of events Katy described it’s likely that the perpetrator had little time to securely hide the receptacle in question,” said Fraser. He let out a sigh of frustration under his breath as their search continued to yield no results.

“The what?” queried Ray. “Thought you said it was a box, buddy.”

“Katy used the word ‘box’,” agreed Fraser, “however in this instance we can assume that this description could refer to any carton, crate, package, case, chest, or casket.”

“Casket? Like a coffin?”

“No, Ray. Like a box.”

Ray rolled his eyes. 

“What I mean,” continued Fraser, “is that a young child would not necessarily have the vocabulary to accurately describe what she saw. We typically think of a box as being a cardboard container with flat, square, or rectangular base and sides. To a child a box could be any number of things.”

Ray shrugged. The back yard was well stocked with trees and shrubs offering plenty of hiding places for someone to dispose of something in a hurry.

“Why didn’t we bring Dief?” asked Ray as he rummaged amongst some wet leaves.

“Serendipity requested his presence at the Consulate,” explained Fraser. “She is concerned that whoever was here earlier may have followed Lucinda. I understand her concerns, although I don’t share them. I have secured the building as best I can and Diefenbaker will take good care of…er, Ray, I think I’ve found something.”

Ray came running over to where Fraser was holding back the prickly, green leaves of a holly bush. Lying on the floor surrounded by red berries was a small, metal box with a security lock. Ray looked at Fraser and nodded and Fraser picked up the box with a gloved hand.

“Looks like a gun case to me,” noted Ray.

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser. 

The lock had a three number combination. Fraser began spinning the wheels with his thumbs at high speed and Ray watched in amazement as the lock clicked open.

“How did you figure that out so fast?” He asked Fraser, scratching his head. “There must be, er, a million permeations.”

“Permutations, Ray,” Fraser corrected him. “And actually the number for this type of lock is only ten to the power of three.”

Ray frowned. Maths had never been his strong point.

“A thousand, Ray.”

“I knew that,” replied Ray. “So, er, are ya gonna open it?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Fraser lifted the metal lid to reveal a hand gun, just as they’d suspected.

“Military issue,” said Ray. “This is Jonathan Bell’s gun, Fraser.”

“You’re jumping to a huge conclusion here, Ray,” Fraser pointed out. 

“C’mon Fraser!” exclaimed Ray. “This is the gun that Bell shot Turnbull with.”

Fraser frowned and rubbed at his eyebrow with the back of his gloved thumb. “Katy was quite sure the intruder was not her uncle,” he reminded Ray.

“So the other guy, McGarratt, borrowed it to shoot the Mountie in Cincinnati,” said Ray.

“You know, Ray, it’s highly unusual for a murder weapon not to be disposed of at the earliest opportunity following its use in a homicide,” Fraser pointed out. 

“Maybe it’s Bell’s favourite gun and he wanted it back?” suggested Ray. 

“Or perhaps Bell is innocent and McGarratt wanted to implicate him in the crimes?” Fraser responded.

Ray shrugged. “Look, buddy, all I know is we have a murder weapon in the back yard of Bell’s sister’s place and…”

“Possible attempted murder weapon,” Fraser interrupted him.

“Possible attempted murder weapon,” agreed Ray with a sneer. “Ballistics report will confirm it.”

“It’s likely,” nodded Fraser. “However we have a witness who confirms that another man discarded it here.”

“McGarratt?”

“Well, Katy described a large male…”

“Fraser, she’s six,” Ray noted. “All guys are large when you’re six.”

Fraser nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed. “In that case, despite quite possibly being in possession of the weapon used in one if not both shootings, we still have very little to go on.”

xXxXxXx

Inspector Meg Thatcher landed back at O’Hare with Bernard Wilson late that afternoon. They had been accompanied by an officer from the Cincinnati Police Department who ensured the prisoner and the Inspector were handed safely over to Officer Pirelli from the Chicago PD, before leaving on the next flight back to Ohio. 

Inspector Thatcher got into the back of the Police car and glared at her prisoner. The flight may have only been an hour long, but to the Inspector it had felt like days. Wilson was not happy about his situation at all. He had spent the entire flight protesting his innocence. 

He was also a sexist pig.

“Wilson, get your hand off my leg!” exclaimed Meg. She wanted to punch him in the face. Despite his anger at being arrested he’d found every opportunity to touch, or leer at the Inspector, or make lewd and inappropriate comments. Officer Page from Cincinnati had fallen asleep as soon as the plane had started taxiing down the runway and spent the entire flight snoring. Meg hadn’t wanted Wilson to think she couldn’t deal with his lecherous ways on her own so she had chosen not to wake the sleeping policeman. 

And she could deal with him on her own; she was a police officer even if her fieldwork skills were a little rusty. Meg had got a real buzz today out of flying to another state on the trail of a criminal. She had been tied to an endless round of meetings and diplomatic events for far too long now, she realised. Something had to change and the sooner the better.

For now though her only concern was getting Wilson to the Twenty Seventh precinct.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks,” replied Wilson, “but it’s kinda hard when we’re handcuffed together. Wherever your hand goes, mine goes too.” He winked at her. “Or the other way around…and you know a guy can get real itchy sometimes…” His hand gravitated slowly towards his crotch.

Meg pulled it away with a sharp tug. The metal of the handcuffs burned at her wrist with the sudden friction, but it was worth the pain. The thought of putting her hand anywhere near that particular part of Bernard Wilson’s anatomy made her want to vomit. It was bad enough that his sweaty fingers had been brushing against hers for the entire flight.

Wilson sighed. “So, how about you unlock these and we can talk some more about how this is all a big misunderstanding?” He winked at her again.

“Mr Wilson,” snarled Meg. “Must I remind you again that you are a prisoner under arrest in connection with two attempted homicides?”

“So you keep telling me,” replied Wilson. “And I keep telling you that I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was in Cincinnati on vacation, it’s a beautiful city. I get lonely sometimes; a change of scenery does me good.” He smiled at her again, the same sickly smile she’d had to put up with on the flight and then lowered his gaze to her chest. “Scenery looks pretty good from here,” he added with another wink.

Meg glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed Officer Pirelli trying not to laugh. She sighed sadly. He was a few years away from retirement, but that was no excuse for his attitude. It was hard being a woman in the RCMP. It shouldn’t be, but it was. Of course things had changed for the better since her first days at Depot, but there were still a few dinosaurs amongst the ranks – like Pirelli – who seemed to think it was acceptable to treat women differently, even if the woman in question was a senior officer. She had fought her way to the position she was in now and it hadn’t been easy. If Pirelli had been one of her officers she would have put him on sentry duty for the rest of his career. 

“Mr Wilson, you’re under caution,” Meg reminded him. “So I suggest you shut the hell up.” 

Her bluntness stunned Wilson, but eventually he realised that she had a point. He stared out of the car window as they sped through the streets of Chicago and finally began to realise what a serious situation he was in.

xXxXxXx

“Told ya,” Ray grinned at Fraser and snatched the ballistics report from Francesca’s outstretched hand. “It’s a match. Definitely the gun that fired the slugs they pulled outta Turnbull and Constable Conti.”

Francesca sidled up to Fraser. “I’m so glad you didn’t get shot,” she said, holding his forearm tenderly. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

Fraser stiffened and forced himself not to draw his arm away sharply. “Th…thank you kindly, Francesca,” he said. 

Francesca looked up into his eyes and smiled, still holding tightly to his arm.

_Oh dear…_

“I’ll tell Turnbull that you asked after him,” said Ray, dryly.

Francesca ignored him.

“Um, er, um…did I hear mention of, um, fingerprints?” stumbled Fraser.

Francesca sighed and reluctantly released her prize. “Yes,” she said, walking back to her desk to pick up another report. “They found two partial prints. One matches Bell’s from his military files, the other is McGarratt’s.”

“Told ya,” snapped Ray with a grin.

“Were McGarratt’s fingerprints held on police files?” asked Fraser.

“He was arrested with his brother for that murder back in Canada,” explained Francesca. “But he was released without charge.”

“While his brother died in custody awaiting trial for the crime,” noted Fraser.

Ray and Fraser spent a moment in silent thought. They had a lot of pieces of the puzzle, but it wasn’t clear where they all fitted.

“When’s the Ice Queen due back with our other suspect?” asked Ray eventually.

Francesca glanced at the clock on the wall, but before she had chance to answer his question the doors to the Squad Room swung open and the questions was suddenly moot.

“Um, right now,” noted Francesca.

Officer Pirelli had a tight grip on Wilson’s arm and Inspector Thatcher was almost dragging him along by the handcuffs that still bound their wrists together.

Ray and Fraser fell in step behind the party as they headed towards to interview rooms and Francesca went to Lieutenant Welsh’s office to let him know that their prisoner had arrived.

“We can take him from here,” Fraser nodded to Pirelli and the older cop left the Squad Room, his duty over.

“Sit down,” snarled Thatcher and pushed Wilson onto one of the hard wooden chairs in Interview Room Two.

Fraser was startled by her aggression. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but thought it best not to for now.

Thatcher quickly unlocked the handcuffs, finally releasing their bond. She let out a huge sigh of relief and almost staggered backwards to the far corner of the room, rubbing her wrist as she did so.

“I have some powdered horn if…” began Fraser, gingerly.

“I’m fine,” snapped Meg.

“Understood.”

Just then Welsh breezed into the room carrying a file. He slapped the file down onto the small white table in front of Wilson. “I’ve put my butt on the line to get you here,” he said gruffly to the prisoner. “And that makes me tetchy. So I suggest you co-operate.”

Wilson just stared silently at the Lieutenant.

“Vecchio, grill the snot out of this guy,” said Welsh and turned to leave the room. “Inspector, Constable, with me.” Years of experience had taught him that the best way to get a suspect to talk was one to one. You had to build a relationship if you were going to get answers. Either you got the guy to trust you, or you got him so scared that he’d admit to anything to save his own skin, but it was often best done alone.

“May I suggest, sir, that as this is a joint operation between the RCMP and your good selves I should remain here and participate in the questioning?” asked Fraser, hopefully.

Welsh opened his mouth to speak, but the Inspector got there first.

“No, I’ll stay,” she said.

Fraser and Welsh glanced at each other. The Inspector seemed to be unusually agitated and it concerned them both.

Welsh had no authority over Meg so reluctantly he shrugged and left to take up a position in the other room to observe the interrogation.

Fraser, of course, had no authority over her either. “With respect, sir,” he began, but Meg cut him off with a glare. “May I have a word with you first?” asked Fraser, resigned to the fact the he would not be able to change her mind. “There has been a development you should be made aware of.”

Meg nodded and followed Fraser out into the corridor, while Ray started silently pacing up and down, trying to unsettle Wilson.

Fraser quickly explained about the intruder at Lucinda Weller’s house that morning and about the gun they’d found there. While he was speaking, Fraser became increasingly concerned about Meg. “Sir, if I may…” he began, nervously. “Are you…that is, is everything…?”

“Yes, Fraser, I am,” replied Meg, curtly. “And everything is.”

It wasn’t really a proper reply, but then he hadn’t asked a proper question.

“Good,” said Fraser. “That’s…that’s good.” He remained entirely unconvinced.

“It’s been a long day,” Meg said, finally. “And Wilson isn’t exactly someone I’d choose to spend time with.”

“I see,” he said cautiously. “In that case I suggest we proceed.”

Meg nodded, but didn’t move. She looked into his eyes and tried not to lose herself in them. It wasn’t easy. Part of her wanted to fall into his arms and tell him all about Wilson and how repulsive he was, but she didn’t want to appear weak in front of Fraser…did she? 

_He won’t see it as a weakness… He’ll understand… I just want to be held for a while…_

“Sir?”

His voice snapped her out of his trance.

“Thank you, Constable,” she said. “Dismissed,” she added, although what she was dismissing him from was unclear. Her mind, probably, she realised. _Get out of my thoughts, Ben…_

Fraser hesitated for a moment before turning heel and heading to the other room to join Welsh. 

“Is the Inspector fully briefed now, Constable?” asked the Lieutenant as Fraser shut the door behind him.

Fraser stared through the two way mirror for a moment, watching Meg’s every move. Something had unsettled her, that much was obvious – to him at least – but he felt sure that it was nothing to do with the case. The Inspector, being the consummate professional, would have mentioned it if it was.

Fraser turned back to answer Welsh. “Yes,” he replied, simply.

Welsh and Fraser watched the events in the other room in silence for a few minutes.

“How often do you and your buddies get together?” Ray asked Wilson.

“We’re not a Girl Scout troupe,” retorted Wilson. Then he glanced at Meg. “Bet you were a Girl Scout, right?”

“Answer the detective’s question,” snapped Meg.

“A few of us try to meet once a month,” replied Wilson, “but we’re from all over Canada, it’s not easy to arrange.”

“When was the last time you saw Bell and McGarratt?” asked Ray.

“Bell’s a nut job,” replied Wilson, coldly. “And McGarratt’s a thug. All I want to do is to show people that Mounties aren’t all perfect.” He glanced at Meg with a look of genuine apology.

Meg didn’t know how to respond.

“All because your wife ran off with one?” pushed Ray. “Can’t say I blame her,” he added with a sneer.

Wilson reacted to the jibe by leaping out of his chair, but Ray didn’t let him get far and pushed him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Fraser watched the scene with concern. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the instant Wilson got to his feet, Meg backed away slightly. Ray had been too concerned with keeping the man under control to notice her reaction.

Fraser clasped his hands behind his back tightly. He turned to Welsh. “Sir,” he began. “May I…may I ask your advice?”

“Yes, Constable,” replied Welsh. 

Fraser cleared his throat. “When…when a woman…” but that was as far as he got before Welsh stopped him.

“Woah there, Fraser,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “I can give you advice about Police work, about which team to root for in the Superbowl, or about buying a used car, but I cannot under any circumstances give you advice about women.”

“I see,” replied Fraser, looking down at his boots. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Welsh regarded him for a moment. He sighed. “Thatcher?” he enquired.

Fraser’s head snapped up and he stared wide eyed at Welsh. “Er, um, er…” he stammered as his face slowly turned a deep shade of red.

“Look, Fraser,” continued Welsh. “Don’t waste your time trying to understand women. I’ve been married for over thirty years and I still do not understand women.”

“Understood, sir,” replied Fraser, quietly.

They turned their attentions back to the events in the other room. Ray was thumping the table with his fist in frustration. Wilson was sticking to his lies. He claimed he had no knowledge of any plot to assassinate RCMP officers, nor did he know the whereabouts of Jonathan Bell or Andrew McGarratt.

“I know my rights, Detective,” said Wilson in a calm voice. “You have nothing on me. You cannot hold me here without charging me with something and the last time I checked it wasn’t a crime to vacation in Cincinnati.”

“Do you realise the consequences of lying to the Police?” asked Meg. She wanted to ring this man’s neck, but that would mean touching him and she really didn’t want to do that.

Wilson showed the first signs of vulnerability since he’d arrived at the station. Fraser stiffened as the man’s body language changed, his confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance demeanour gone for a brief moment. 

Ray glanced up at the mirror; he’d seen it too. He realised this was their way in to the man’s head. Maybe he hadn’t thought about the consequences of his actions up until now. Ray decided he would spell out exactly what charges he would face if they could prove he had been withholding evidence.

As Ray read out the list of charges and their associated punishments, Wilson’s face slowly went pale. He tried to maintain his attitude, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, certainly not trained police officers.

“And that’s assuming that you didn’t shoot anyone,” added Ray. He was convinced of that for now at least. Bernard Wilson was all talk, but he didn’t have the nerve to kill, not from what Ray had seen. He appeared to have answered all of Ray’s direct questions about the shootings honestly, but he was involved somehow. Ray just couldn’t quite figure out how yet.

Meg took a deep breath and sat down in the other chair. “Now that we’ve got your attention, Mr Wilson,” she began, fighting the knot in her stomach. “Would you like to reconsider any of the things you’ve said during this interview?”

Wilson drew a breath and moved his hand across the table. Meg quickly withdrew hers from his reach. “I don’t hate all Mounties,” he said adding one of his trademark winks.

“I meant specifics regarding your involvement in these shootings,” Meg replied.

“I was not involved in the shootings,” reiterated Wilson. 

“Bullcrap,” exclaimed Ray and he started pacing across the floor. Meg glared at him.

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Does he have to be here?” he asked. “I don’t trust him; he’s trying to set me up.”

“Detective Vecchio and I simply want you to tell the truth,” said Meg. Wilson leaned towards her as she spoke and she moved her head to the side to avoid the foul smell of his breath.

“I’ll talk to you alone, Inspector,” said Wilson.

“No deal,” snapped Ray.

Wilson ignored him. “I can’t relax when he’s in the room,” he continued. “I’m sure you could help me to relax, Inspector. If it was just you and me I might remember something. I imagine you’re highly skilled in the art of interrogation. I imagine you’re highly skilled in many things.”

As he finished speaking, Wilson reached out his hand and gently brushed the side of Meg’s face. Ray lurched quickly to stop him and Meg lifted her own hand to knock his away, but before any of them knew what was happening the door flew open and Fraser burst in. He grabbed Wilson by the back of the neck and forced his head down onto the table with a thud.

“I expect you to extend the proper courtesy to Inspector Thatcher,” said Fraser through gritted teeth as he resisted the urge to apply more pressure to the man’s neck. “Or Detective Vecchio will arrest you for sexual assault.”

Wilson let out a muffled response. He had no idea what had hit him, but now his fat face was pressed hard against the table top and he was finding it difficult to breathe.

“Fraser…” Ray said, shooting his partner a warning look.

“Constable!” exclaimed Meg. 

Fraser waited for a beat before releasing Wilson. The startled man lifted his head and gasped for air.

“Now,” said Fraser, his calm manner firmly back in place. “We will leave you alone with your thoughts.” He gestured towards the door. “Inspector?” 

Meg got to her feet, angry at herself for feeling so shaky. They went out into the corridor and Ray locked the interview room behind them. Welsh was already standing out there with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He couldn’t believe Fraser had moved so quickly from his side.

Ray stood for a moment looking first at Fraser and then at Meg. The two Mounties were locked in a stare, neither one had spoken. They didn’t have to, Ray realised.

“Sir,” Ray addressed Welsh. “We should, er, we should go to your office.” 

Welsh regarded Fraser for a moment. “That’s a very good idea, Detective.”

When Ray and Welsh were out of earshot, Fraser was the first to speak. “Are you alright, sir?” He gently squeezed her shoulder for a brief moment before dropping his hand back down to his side.

“Yes,” replied Meg, glancing down at his hand and wishing he’d had the nerve to linger longer on her shoulder.

Fraser frowned at her obvious lie. “Is there something I should be aware of?” he asked. 

“No, Fraser,” replied Meg. “It’s just that man, he’s…he’s vile.”

Fraser nodded. 

“And he reminds me of someone I used to know,” admitted Meg. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but the reason Wilson’s behaviour had shaken her so much was that he reminded her of someone from her past. “Henri Cloutier,” she added.

Fraser wasn’t entirely surprised. He had met Cloutier once, during the incident with Lyndon Buxley and his prize chickens and Meg had made it quite clear that they had a history that she’d rather forget. One day he hoped she’d be able to open up to him about exactly what had happened with Cloutier, but for now all he could say in response was, “Understood.”

Meg nodded. His understanding was all she could hope for at this moment in time. “Thank you,” she said. Her lips twisted into a small smile and her heart skipped a beat as he returned the gesture.


	9. Chapter 9

“And you’re absolutely sure he was telling the truth?”

Meg Thatcher sipped at the hot coffee Fraser had made for her and looked up at her junior officer as the morning sun streamed into her office from the window behind. The sunlight accentuated his beautiful features. 

_Is it OK to think of him beautiful?_ She wondered as she watched the light dance over his cheekbones and sparkle on the brass buttons of his tunic.

_Yes, in this case it is._

Fraser stood in front of her desk in his familiar stance – eyes front, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. Meg had learnt a long time ago that it was pointless to order him to stand at ease in these situations. 

“Absolutely, sir,” Fraser replied. “Mr Wilson was quite forthcoming when we resumed the interview. He was aware that Andrew McGarratt was planning something either here in Chicago, or in Cincinnati and, after initially doing nothing to stop him, he eventually decided to act.”

“I guess his conscience got the better of him,” noted Meg with some surprise.

“Um, not exactly, sir,” Fraser explained. “It seems that Wilson’s motive for trying to stop McGarratt was not on moral grounds, but merely that he was concerned he would be implicated in the criminal activity by association.”

Meg rolled her eyes. That was more like the Wilson she’d had the misfortune of spending most of yesterday with.

Dippy was busy dusting the ornaments on the mantelpiece in the Inspector’s office. She spun round, feather duster in hand, at Fraser’s words.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed. “This Wilson guy knew that other creep was, like, gonna to try to kill my brother and he totally let him do it?”

“Mr Wilson insists he wasn’t sure of McGarratt’s intentions,” Fraser explained. “McGarratt did approach him several weeks ago to ask if he was interested in becoming more actively involved in his scheme, but Wilson was under the impression that McGarratt was, as he put it, all talk and had no intention of proceeding with his plans.”

Meg drank her coffee in silence as she absorbed the new information. After the incident at the station yesterday she had decided to leave the rest of the interrogation to Fraser and Ray and had gone home and straight to bed. She’d spent a rather restless night going over the day’s events in her mind and having nightmares about Wilson, Henri Cloutier and, rather bizarrely, Jim, the clerk at the post office. She had no reason to suspect that Jim had any intentions towards her other than to ensure her mail was franked correctly, but all the dreams had disturbed her nonetheless.

Dippy fussed around her desk, tiding papers and pens. “So, where’s McGarratt, like, hiding now?” She asked.

Fraser glanced at Meg before answering. He was aware that the young woman’s presence was starting to annoy his superior officer. “Um, well, we don’t know,” he replied.

“Because, like, if he’s really the guy who shot Ren then I wanna kick his ass when you find him, OK?” continued Dippy. 

Fraser winced at her choice of language in front of the Inspector.

Dippy stopped tidying for a moment and stood with her hands on her hips. “You know something,” she said. “That Wilson guy, I wanna kick his ass too. Do you think the cops would let me do that?”

“No, they most certainly would not,” replied Meg.

“Oh.” Dippy was disappointed and went back to dusting. She started humming a tune while she worked. She was wearing the apron her brother often wore when he was cleaning and to Meg, with her blond hair pulled back in a large pink elastic, she suddenly looked like a character from a Disney movie. Meg glanced at the window, half expecting a flock of bluebirds to be there ready to join in. Fortunately, the only birds she could see were a couple of pigeons and they had no apparent intention of assisting with either the housework, or the singing.

Meg turned back to Fraser. “And what is Jonathan Bell’s involvement in all of this?” she asked, trying to ignore Dippy.

“At this juncture the level of his involvement is unknown,” explained Fraser. “It seems McGarratt approached various members of the group, including Bell, but Wilson was not aware that Bell had agreed to assist.”

“Perhaps his only involvement was to lend McGarratt a weapon?” suggested Meg.

“Or maybe he was, like, blackmailing him?” suggested Dippy, suddenly. “I mean, Jonathan Bell has this deep, dark secret, right? Something awful happened in Iraq that he can’t talk about. So maybe the other guy found out what it is and said, like, you gotta help me kill some Mounties or I’ll totally tell everyone about what happened.” Dippy started pacing up and down as she began to flesh out her idea. “I mean, Lucinda said her brother hates guns and violence now and that’s why she’s, like, totally sure he had nothing to do with the shootings, but if he was being blackmailed then maybe he had no choice, right?”

“Miss Turnbull…” began Meg, clenching her fist in frustration, but it wasn’t enough to stop Dippy once she was in full flow.

“I saw this episode of, um, some cop show once, I can’t remember which one,” Dippy continued, waving the feather duster around dangerously close to an antique lamp that was standing in the corner. “And this guy with a moustache was blackmailing this other guy and the other guy, the first one I mean, Moustache Guy, totally made him do all this stuff and…”

“Miss Turnbull!” Meg shouted, slamming her coffee cup down on the desk as she spoke.

Dippy almost jumped in the air, but was, to Meg’s great relief, stunned into silence. 

“This is a private discussion about a police matter,” Meg continued, “and do you have to do that right now?” She waved her arms in the air mimicking dusting in an over exaggerated manner as she spoke.

Fraser could see Dippy’s bottom lip quivering and realised the only reason she had stopped talking was that she was about to burst into tears. “Serendipity,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to, um, to make some more coffee?” he suggested.

Dippy nodded. “I’m sorry…sorry…” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to…um, Inspector.” She gave a quick curtsey and ran out of the room.

Fraser watched her go. He wanted to run after her and apologise on Meg’s behalf, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave until he had been dismissed. He turned back to look at Meg, his blue eyes wide.

The Inspector let out a huge sigh and she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms defensively. “I didn’t mean to shout,” she began, “but she was…she was…” She trailed off. 

What had Dippy been doing that was so annoying exactly? Meg wondered. Cleaning her office and trying to help with the case. Neither of which, when Meg thought of it like that, were annoying at all. 

She sighed again. “Constable, please tell Miss Turnbull that I’m sorry if I upset her,” she said quietly. Meg found it difficult to admit she was wrong, but recently she had started to find it easier to admit it to Fraser. She wasn’t sure why, but it was comforting somehow. “Dismissed,” she added for good measure.

“Yes, sir,” nodded Fraser and left the office.

Meg felt a lump forming in her own throat as the door closed behind him. 

_Why do I have to treat people that way?_

It was precisely that which had got Constable Turnbull shot in the first place, wasn’t it? If only she had been more tolerant of him he wouldn’t have been outside, a sitting target for every Mountie hater who happened to be passing by with a gun.

_I’ll have to apologise to the girl…and to Fraser…but not now. Let Fraser calm her down first._

Meg closed her eyes and imagined Dippy sobbing on Fraser’s shoulder, his strong, comforting arms around her and his soothing voice pulling her back from her despair as he gently stroked her hair. 

_Lucky girl. It should be me…_

“Oh what am I saying?” she muttered under her breath as she snapped herself out of her fantasy. “This is Fraser. He’s probably standing to attention while the poor girl cries her eyes out in front of him.” 

xXxXx

Fraser found Dippy sitting at the foot of the stairs, tears running down her face. She had her knees tucked up under her chin with her arms wrapped tightly around them. 

Diefenbaker had sensed something was wrong and had trotted out from the kitchen to find her. Fraser glanced at his wolf, who had taken a protective position beside Dippy, but between her sniffling and his poor hearing, Dief hadn’t really been able to make sense of anything Dippy had said to him.

Dippy glanced up as Fraser approached and dried her face with the corner of her apron.

“May I?” asked Fraser, nodding at the step she was sitting on.

“Sure,” replied Dippy and she shuffled over to give Fraser room to sit down.

“The Inspector wishes me to pass on her apologies,” began Fraser as he sat beside her. He immediately kicked himself for making it sound so formal.

Dippy looked at him and nodded. She tried to speak, but instead all that came out was a sob.

Fraser sighed. “Don’t cry,” he urged. He knew if Ray were here he would have pulled her into a reassuring hug, but Fraser still found it difficult to be quite so tactile. Instead he rested his hand on her forearm. “Everything is alright,” he added, trying to reassure her with a gentle squeeze.

“I was just trying to help,” she said, finally, in a squeaky voice. “I mean, Ray told me that Ren, like, does all the housework around here and I figured that I should, y’know, do it instead while he’s in the hospital.”

Fraser smiled. “And the Inspector appreciates your assistance,” he said. “As do I, but you are our guest here. There’s no need for you to work.”

“I want to do it,” replied Dippy. “I thought Inspector Thatcher would be, like, pleased.” She sniffed and another tear slid down her face.

“She is,” insisted Fraser.

Diefenbaker barked. 

“That’s unfair,” Fraser replied, scowling at his wolf. “The last few days have been difficult for the Inspector.”

“Fraser’s right,” agreed Dippy. “You can be a really grumpy old wolf sometimes,” she added.

Dief growled.

“Hey,” frowned Dippy. “You know I totally didn’t mean it like that. Jeez, you’re worse than Ray.”

Fraser smiled at the exchange. It was good for Dief to have someone else to converse with, he thought and Dippy Turnbull was particularly good at conversation. 

_Maybe some of her positive energy will rub off on him?_

“Ray told me about what that creep Wilson did to the Inspector yesterday,” said Dippy. “I’m not surprised she’s grouchy today.”

Fraser was a little taken aback. He folded his arms across his chest, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “Ray, um, Ray told you?” he queried.

“Well, kinda,” replied Dippy. “I mean, Francesca, like, told me first when I called the station last night to see how long you guys were gonna be, but she didn’t know exactly what happened because someone told her the guy totally kissed the Inspector, but then someone else told her he didn’t. So I asked Ray when we were in the car after we’d dropped Lucinda and Katy off at their friend’s house last night. Ray totally didn’t want to tell me anything of course, but I tickled it out of him later. He said the guy didn’t kiss her, but he, like, touched her face. Is that true? I mean, eeeww, what a creep. I guess she was real glad to see you. Although Ray said he had everything, like, under control so it would have been OK anyway, but even so.”

Fraser didn’t quite know how to respond. “You…you tickled it out of him?”

“Yeah,” replied Dippy. “At the hospital last night while we were waiting to see if it would be, like, OK if I sat with Ren for a while even though it was so late. The nurse said yes, but you already know that.”

“I see,” nodded Fraser. So Inspector Thatcher would be the talk of the Twenty Seventh this morning. That was the last thing she needed and the last thing he’d wanted when he’d burst into the interview room. 

_Oh dear._

“You’re a hero, you know that?” smiled Dippy. “I mean, what girl wouldn’t want a handsome Mountie to, like, come running to her rescue in her hour of need? I mean, you did it for me on my first night here when I went off with that guy in the bar. You and Ray did, I mean. I don’t know if I, like, really thanked you properly for rescuing me. If I hadn’t have been all, like, mad and weird about it at the time I would have done for sure.”

“Inspector Thatcher was not in need of rescuing,” replied Fraser, awkwardly. “I was merely using the situation to unsettle Mr Wilson,” he continued, hoping Dippy hadn’t noticed his cheeks turning as red as his tunic. “It was an attempt at the tried and tested Good Cop-oblique stroke-Bad Cop rouse.” 

Fraser was babbling almost as fast as Dippy could now. “Or, more accurately in this instance, Good Cop-oblique stroke-Bad Mountie and…and it worked,” he continued. “Mr Wilson was very forthcoming afterwards. The Inspector is perfectly capable of handling herself in any given situation. She is a Mountie.”

Dippy eyed him suspiciously.

“She is very…capable,” added Fraser.

Suddenly, a smile began to spread across Dippy’s face and her eyes widened. “Oh my god,” she said and her smile grew. “You totally have a thing for the Inspector!” she exclaimed.

Fraser leapt to his feet. “A, er…a, um… I beg your pardon?” he stuttered. 

Dief yapped.

“I…I have no idea what either of you are talking about,” insisted Fraser. He realised his heart rate was climbing and he tried desperately to keep it under control. How on earth could Dippy be so perceptive on this issue of all things? Fraser couldn’t understand it. He was very careful to keep his feelings to himself at all times. He didn’t even understand what he felt for Meg, so how could Dippy have been so close to the truth? He made a mental note to…well, to do something to stop this happening again. If Dippy could guess so easily and Dief seemed convinced too, then what about Ray? An experienced detective…

_Oh dear, he probably already suspects…_

“Oh come on,” grinned Dippy. “You have the hots for her and that’s why you ran in to save her. Oh that’s, like, sooo romantic!”

“Ro...ro…romantic? I hardly think…” Fraser scratched furiously at his left eyebrow as he spoke.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Dippy stood up and faced him. “I promise. I guess she doesn’t get it, right? So it’s unrequested love.”

“It’s unrequited love,” Fraser corrected her, tugging at his earlobe. 

“That’s so sad,” replied Dippy. “I watched this sappy movie once…”

“No, you misunderstand,” said Fraser desperately, but Dippy wasn’t listening.

“…about this girl who worked in a shoe store and she was totally in love with this guy who…”

“Dippy, I assure you that there is nothing between the Inspector and myself other than a working relationship,” Fraser said, firmly. He licked his lower lip as he pondered what else he could say to convince her. 

Dippy was still grinning. “If you say so,” she said, winking.

“I do.”

“I know and I, like, totally heard you.”

xXxXx

Lucinda and Katy had spent the night at a friend’s house. Even though the forensics team had finished at her house by the evening, Lucinda had not wanted to return home. 

“It would be different if my husband were home,” she’d explained to Ray, “But he’s got two months left of his current tour of duty. It’s hard when he’s away.”

“Your husband is a military man too?” Ray had asked. 

“Yes, he trained with Jon,” Lucinda had explained. “That’s how we met.”

Katy had spent the night in bed with her mommy, still scared after what had happened that morning. It had been a long night and they were both still tired when Ray had returned to collect them and take Lucinda to the station. She needed to sign a statement and he wanted to ask her some more questions about her brother. He picked up Fraser from the Consulate and left Katy there as Dippy had agreed to look after her.

Katy waved to her mother as the GTO disappeared out of view.

“So, what shall we do first?” asked Dippy.

Katy shrugged.

“Are you scared?” Dippy asked gently and Katy nodded.

“We’re safe here,” Dippy reassured her. “Look, I’m locking the door just like Fraser said.” She turned the key and pushed both heavy bolts across. “And Dief is here, even though he’s kinda asleep right now. No one is gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Katy managed a small smile.

“Cool,” Dippy smiled back. “We could play schools. That’s kinda fun. Ren and I used to play schools, like, all the time when we were kids. We didn’t go to a real school that often, especially in the winter because of, like, all the snow, but we still had to learn stuff at home so I would be the teacher and Ren and the animals would be my class and we’d do math and history and all that stuff. Shall we do that?”

“OK,” replied Katy with a smile. “I think you’d be a great teacher.”

“Really?” said Dippy as she led the little girl into the reception room. “Me? I don’t think I’m, like, smart enough to be a teacher. I’ve always wanted to be an actress, or a supermodel, or maybe a make-up artist working in TV and movies. Not, like, those horror movies, I don’t want to do, like, zombie make-up, but I mean doing hair and make-up for all the glamourous movie stars. How cool would that be? Totally cool, right?”

“Sure,” agreed Katy, although she wasn’t really sure what ‘zombie make-up’ was. “Can Dief play?” She asked.

Dippy looked down at the wolf. “Well, he’s not real good with math…” she began.

Dief barked and growled.

“Oh come on, you told me you’d eaten, like, two cupcakes yesterday and you’d eaten five!” exclaimed Dippy.

Dief yapped a reply.

“That’s not an excuse,” frowned Dippy, folding her arms as she spoke. “OK, mister. You can sit at the front of the class.”

xXxXx

At the station, Lucinda had told Ray and Fraser everything she knew about her brother and his Canadian associates. She’d tried desperately to think of where Jonathan might be hiding out - if indeed he was still in Chicago at all - but she admitted that she often didn’t know where he was. He regularly travelled between his home in Canada and Chicago and Lucinda enjoyed his visits, but she also admitted that when Jonathan was going through one of his difficult times his behaviour scared her. His difficult times had become less and less frequent recently, though and she had begun to believe that he was putting the past behind him and getting on with his life. That had been until his latest visit, when he seemed to have gone backwards in his recovery. Despite that she was still convinced he was incapable of hurting anyone, even a Mountie, because of his reaction when anyone mentioned violence or weapons of any kind.

Francesca took Lucinda to the lunch room for coffee leaving Ray and Fraser in the interview room. Fraser opened one of the files and spread all the papers out on the desk in front of him in a neat row.

“You comin’, buddy?” asked Ray, heading for the door. “I need coffee.”

“Not yet,” replied Fraser. He stared at the paperwork and sighed.

Ray came back to the table and stood over his friend. “What’s up?” he asked.

Fraser nodded towards the printouts. “These are all the complaints filed against the RCMP by members of the group that Bell, Wilson and McGarratt belong to,” he said.

“Yeah, and?” 

“And, Ray, some of these people make a good case,” replied Fraser, seriously.

“And most of ‘em are nut jobs out to sue the ass off the RCMP for whatever they can get,” said Ray. “Don’t freak out over this.”

“I’m not freaking out, Ray,” insisted Fraser. “I understand that some of these accusations are unfounded and have been made by members of the public for the sole purpose of monetary gain. I also understand that genuine mistakes can be made, even by Mounties…I’ve made mistakes of my own…however it is the suggestion of deliberate misdemeanours by RCMP officers which concerns me.” 

Ray ran his fingers through his spiky hair. He hated to see Fraser so down. “The RCMP has an IA, right?” asked Ray.

“Indeed,” agreed Fraser. “Our Internal Affairs division is highly regarded.”

Ray sneered. “Unlike ours,” he said, rolling his eyes. “What I’m saying is let ‘em do their jobs. If any of those reports hold water, your IA guys will be on those Mounties like a…like a polar bear with a sore head.”

Fraser stood up from the chair and walked across the room, spinning his hat slowly around in his hands. Then he turned to face Ray, his face serious. “I have always been proud to wear this uniform,” he began, standing to attention and placing his hat squarely on his head. “This uniform is a symbol of trust, of honour, of truth and justice,” he continued, “and yet there are Mounties wearing this uniform who are clearly not adhering to those principals. I…I don’t understand.”

Ray’s shoulders drooped sadly. “There are dirty cops out there,” he said. “Shouldn’t happen, but it does. Not all cops are like you, buddy.”

“And you,” added Fraser with a nod.

A tiny grin danced at the corners of Ray’s lips. _Am I really one of the good guys?_ “Yeah, if ya say so,” he shrugged.

“I do,” insisted Fraser. “You are not capable of carrying out any of the criminal actions referred to in those reports,” he added. “I’m not a fool, Ray,” he continued, scratching at his eyebrow with his thumbnail. “I have encountered corrupt police officers, you know about the man who killed my father, but it’s…well it’s somewhat overwhelming to see so many reports gathered together in one place and, in particular, so many of said reports about…”

“Mounties,” Ray finished his sentence for him.

Fraser nodded.

Ray crossed the room and gave him a friendly slap on the back. “For every dirty cop out there, for every dirty Mountie, there are hundreds like you,” he said. Then he thought about what he’d just said. “OK, maybe not, er, not exactly like you ‘coz you’re a freak…”

“So you keep saying.”

“I mean there’s hundreds of clean cops out there, cops like the rest of us just tryin’ to make it possible for, er, for good people to tuck their kids in at night, turn out the lights and know they'll be safe,” Ray explained with a wink.

Fraser recognised the words he’d used himself once when he’d only just met Ray and he couldn’t help smiling at the realisation that his friend had remembered them. 

“And yeah, sometimes we screw up,” continued Ray as he steered Fraser towards the door. “Sometimes things go wrong out there and if I make a mistake and someone gets, y’know, hurt, then I’ll hold my hands up to it, I figure most of us would.”

Fraser nodded.

“Listen,” Ray paused at the door. “If I ever thought there was a dirty cop in this precinct, I’d kick him in the head before anyone even had time to file a report, but these Mounties…we’re just talkin’ about a handful of isolated incidents here, right? It’s not a, er, a big thing. The RCMP still stands for honour and justice and, er, all that other stuff. Nothing’s changed, Fraser.”

Fraser nodded silently again.

Ray’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re OK, right?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if anything he’d said had helped, or even made any sense. 

“Yes, Ray. You’re quite correct, of course. Nothing has changed,” replied Fraser, sounding entirely unconvinced. He wanted to speak to his father, but a quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no sign of the ghost. Bob Fraser knew a thing or two about unscrupulous Mounties, that much was certain. Gerrard had been his trusted friend for years until he’d been corrupted by greed and ultimately turned from Mountie to murderer.

_How do you reconcile what happened, Dad?_

But there was no reply.

xXxXx

At the Consulate, Katy snuggled into Diefenbaker’s neck and yawned as she lay on the sofa. Dief, it seemed, had more pressing needs and carefully wriggled his way free.

“What, again?” asked Dippy. “You went, like, an hour ago.”

Dief yapped a response and Dippy shook her head.

“OK, but come straight back,” she said and she unlocked the front door and Dief ran off down the street to take care of his call of nature.

Dippy went back to the other room to find Katy had fallen asleep. She smiled and covered her with a blanket. Dippy had loved spending so much time with the little girl and it had set her mind thinking. She’d always loved children and young children in particular seemed to respond well to her. They were so much fun to be around and their boundless energy and enthusiasm matched her own. She knew she could never be a teacher, but maybe there were other careers in the area of childcare she could consider? 

_Maybe working with kids is my dream job after all? Being a supermodel was a dumb idea anyway._

She was still running through various possibilities in her head as she tidied away the pens and papers they’d been using in their game of schools. 

_I’ll probably have to get a diploma…_

The telephone rang and she leapt up to answer it before it woke Katy.

“Canadian Consulate,” Dippy half whispered down the phone. “I don’t work here, though, so if you have, like, a question about Consulate stuff you’re totally speaking to the wrong person, but I can, like, take a message. Just don’t talk too fast, OK?”

“Dippy, it’s Ray,” came the voice. “Just wanted to make sure everything was OK.”

“Oh, hi Ray,” replied Dippy. “Katy’s asleep. Dief’s gone out to pee again. We made sandwiches for lunch and cut them into shapes, y’know, like stars and triangles, which was cool. Then we made some gingerbread men…”

“Dippy…”

“And we played schools. Katy’s really good at her times tables and she can spell words like banana. I mean, I totally get that wrong all the time! There are too many a’s and n’s, and it’s, like, soooo confusing.”

“Greatness,” said Ray, anxious to get off the phone. “We’ll be back soon.”

“OK. Bye, Ray.”

Just as Dippy put the phone down a loud noise came from the kitchen. It sounded like glass smashing and it was followed by another crash. Dippy froze to the spot and clasped her hands to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Before she had time to do anything a man appeared in the hallway. He was dressed in ripped blue jeans and a denim jacket over a filthy white t-shirt and his hair was dishevelled. He looked to Dippy like he’d been sleeping on the streets.

The man was stunned to see Dippy standing there. “You…are you a Mountie?” he asked.

“M…m…me?” squeaked Dippy. “Er…er…no. I…I...”

“Some wino down the street told me this is where I’d find the Mounties,” replied the man.

Dippy realised he had a rock in his hand and assumed he had used it to break the kitchen window. He began tossing the rock from one hand to the other and looking around nervously

“Um, er, I’m afraid the Consulate is closed right now,” replied Dippy, finding her voice. “If you want to, like, leave me your name and a contact number I can totally get one of the Mounties to call you back, though. Is that OK? I mean, I guess I might be able to help, but it depends what you want. If it’s a question about a visa application or something then I can’t, but if you just want to know where the library is, or the post office, I can give you directions. Although I sometimes get left and right, like, totally muddled up, but I figure I can draw you a map and you can figure it out. I’m pretty good at drawing maps. Once I had this friend and she wanted to get to...”

“Shut up,” snapped the man who had stood in silence as Dippy rambled on.

Dippy did as she was told. She held her breath, hoping that Katy wouldn’t wake up, but it was too much to hope for and her heart sank as she heard the reception room door opening behind her.

_Please don’t hurt her…_

But Dippy needn’t have worried. As soon as Katy appeared a huge smile spread across the man’s face. With the unquestioning innocence of a child, Katy ran towards him before Dippy had time to stop her.

“Uncle Jon!” she exclaimed and the man swept her up into his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

It took a moment for Dippy to realise what was going on. 

_Oh my god…this is him! This is Jonathan Bell. He could be the guy who tried to kill my brother._

Dippy was terrified. Lucinda was convinced that her brother hadn’t shot anyone, but why had he broken into the Consulate? 

_He’s looking for more Mounties to hurt…and he if can’t find Mounties maybe he’ll hurt someone else instead? Like me…or Katy._

Dippy took a deep breath. “Hey, so, er, like, can I get you a coffee?” 

The man looked at Dippy suspiciously. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, or, er, bark tea? Water maybe?” Dippy offered. “Or there’s chamomile tea. I like that, it tastes kinda weird the first time, kinda like flowers, but then I guess that’s what it’s made of, right? It’s good for you, though. Bark tea is just weird. I’ve never liked that. Back home my mum used to make…”

“Will you shut up!” yelled Bell.

Katy suddenly tensed and pulled away from her uncle. She’d never heard him shout like that before and it frightened her.

“Oh, hey, I…I…didn’t mean to scare you, honey,” said Bell. He held his arms out for her, but Katy backed away.

Bell hung his head. “I…I…shouldn’t have come here,” he said. “I didn’t know you were here, honey.” Then he paused and thought for a moment. “Why are you here?” he asked her. “Mounties live here. There are Mounties here, Katy. You…you have to get out of here. Come with me, hurry.”

“No,” replied Katy defiantly. “I like Mounties now, Uncle Jon. A Mountie saved me from getting hit by a car. He’s a really nice man.”

Dippy slowly walked over to Katy and put a protective arm around her shoulders.

Bell’s eyes grew wider and he looked from Katy to Dippy. “What is she saying?” he asked. He was becoming more agitated as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Who are you? What have you done to Katy? You’re one of them aren’t you…a Mountie. You lied to me!”

“No, no!” insisted Dippy. “I’m not a Mountie. I’m not. Please, sir, you’re, like, totally scaring Katy.”

Dippy desperately wanted him to leave, but at the same time she realised that she had to keep him here. Ray and Fraser were on their way, they would be here any minute. She knew she had to keep Jonathan Bell here until they arrived. If she let him go they might never find him again and even if Lucinda was right and he hadn’t pulled the trigger, he was somehow involved in the shootings. Dippy looked into his eyes, but all she could see was fear. 

_He’s more scared than me…_

Bell was breathing heavily. His head was spinning and he couldn’t make sense of anything anymore. “It’s all gone wrong…” he muttered and he started pacing up and down. “This…this wasn’t how it was meant to happen…what do I do? What do I do?”

“Um, we made cookies,” said Dippy trying to keep her voice from trembling. “Do you like cookies? I do and Katy put extra chocolate chips in so they’re, like, totally chocolatey now.”

“What…what…what do I have to do now? What…what did he say I had to do?” Bell wasn’t listening to Dippy at all, he was still mumbling and he’d started tapping the side of his head with his forefinger. “This is wrong, this is all wrong…wrong, wrong, wrong…”

“I like raisin cookies too, but Katy went for chocolate,” Dippy continued. “I’ll go get them and we can, like, hang out for a while.”

“I don’t want cookies!” yelled Bell suddenly. He tried to slow his breathing down with some deep breaths.

There was a scratching noise at the front door and Dippy suddenly remembered that Diefenbaker was outside.

Bell’s head snapped round. “What was that?” he said. “I heard a noise. What…what was it?”

“Um, that was my wolf,” replied Dippy.

“Wolf!” exclaimed Bell and started to back away from the door towards the kitchen. 

“Dog,” Dippy backtracked. “My…my dog, er, Wolfie. That’s his name, coz he kinda looks a bit like a wolf so I figured that was a better name than Billy, or Fluffy, or…or… So, er, I’m gonna let him in, or he’ll totally freeze out there.”

Bell watched nervously as Dippy opened the door. Dief realised something was wrong immediately and as soon as he saw Bell he tried to run towards him, but Dippy jumped in front of him.

“Hey, Wolfie!” she said, flinging her arms around his neck. “Did you, like, have a good, er, pee?” she asked. 

Dief yapped a reply and growled.

“No, it’s fine, this is Katy’s uncle,” said Dippy. She took Dief’s snout in her hands and mouthed as clearly as she could.

_Too dangerous… Follow my lead…_

Dief barked a reply.

Dippy shook her head. 

_No. Not in front of Katy…_ She mouthed.

Reluctantly, Dief agreed to resist the urge to bite the man. He didn’t like it, but he had no choice but to trust Dippy. 

“Your dog doesn’t like me,” said Bell.

“Sure he does,” replied Dippy getting to her feet. “He’s just hungry. So how about I fix some sandwiches?”

“Sandwiches?” Bell screwed up his face at her words. “I don’t want sandwiches and I don’t want cookies and I don’t want tea, got it?” He opened his eyes and stared at Dippy.

Dippy nodded.

“Why are you shouting?” asked Katy innocently.

“I’m not shouting, honey,” said Bell, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m just…just…I’m confused. That’s all. I…I…I just…” he trailed off and ran his fingers through his wild hair.

“I get confused all the time,” said Dippy. “Like, sometimes I start doing something and I, like, totally forget what I was going to do and then I start doing something else and it all gets muddled in my head. So then I just give up and, like, start something completely new instead. Like this one time I was out with my mum tracking a mountain goat…did you know by the way that mountain goats are more closely related to deer than regular goats? I don’t know why they don’t just call them mountain deer.”

Bell tried to say something, but couldn’t get a word in edgeways. This crazy woman babbling on about goats was making his head hurt even more and he couldn’t form any cohesive thoughts.

“Anyway, we were tracking this one goat over the pass and I really wanted to, like, see a baby goat because they are totally cute,” Dippy continued. She slipped her hand into Katy’s as she spoke and slowly walked backwards with her towards the door to the reception room. “So it turned out me and Mum were following different tracks and they, like, went in opposite directions, so then we didn’t know which path to go down, but we saw a baby fox hiding under, like, this old tree and…”

Dippy paused briefly as she heard the noise of a car pulling up outside. 

_Please let this be Ray and Fraser…_

She couldn’t be sure if Dief had heard it too, but she knew he’d be able to sense Fraser. She glanced at the wolf who gave a reassuring yap and trotted towards the kitchen door, blocking Bell’s exit.

Bell hadn’t heard the car. Instead he’d started to pace again. He put the rock in his jacket pocket and twisted his hands into tight fists.

“And we figured he looked kinda cold, the fox I mean, so…” continued Dippy.

“Stop talking!” screamed Bell. “Just stop!”

“Oh, don’t you want to hear about the fox?” asked Dippy, putting on her best hurt face.

“Well I don’t,” snapped Bell. “I want to leave this crazy place. OK? I’m leaving. Open the door.”

“But…but…” stammered Dippy. She had to time this exactly right and she looked to Dief for a cue.

Dief made a low growling noise.

_OK, not yet…_

“Let me out of here now, or I’ll….or I’ll…” Bell’s nostrils flared as he spoke. The threat was empty and had come from nowhere, but he shocked himself with the level of anger this situation had invoked in him. “NOW!”

Suddenly Dief started barking loudly taking Bell by surprise. He covered his ears with his hands and tried to push past the wolf, but Dief wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

Katy started screaming. 

“It’s OK,” said Dippy reassuringly. “Stay in here,” she added and gently pushed the startled girl into the reception room, closing the door behind her before lurching for the front door, pulling back the bolts and opening it.

The commotion was too much for Bell and he backed himself up against the wall. He still had his ears covered, trying to block out all the noise so he could think and he had his eyes screwed tightly shut, but it was no use. “Shut up! SHUT UP!”

“Hurry, he’s here,” said Dippy as she flung the door open.

Ray and Fraser didn’t know who she was talking about, but they soon realised as Lucinda caught sight of her brother.

“Jonny!” she exclaimed.

Bell was completely disorientated now and the next few minutes passed in a blur. “What? What the…?” There, in front of him, stood the epitome of everything he hated…a Mountie. 

_A Mountie!_

And his sister… 

_Luci, get away from him!_

He couldn’t speak. His world was crashing down around him and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. In a split second he grabbed Lucinda and pulled her into a hug. He squeezed tighter and tighter as if she was the only thing that could hold him together.

“Jon…Jonny, you’re…you’re hurting me…” gasped Lucinda.

Immediately, Ray pulled out his gun. “Let her go, Bell,” he warned.

“Ray, no!” shouted Fraser, but it was too late. Bell had seen the gun. He let out a loud, gut wrenching scream and released Lucinda.

Dippy grabbed her hand and quickly shoved her into the other room to be with her terrified daughter. Dippy tried to follow Lucinda, but somehow she tripped over her feet and stumbled to her knees. 

In a split second Bell lunged at her pulled her into his clutches. With one arm around her throat and the other hand pulling her arm tightly behind her back, there was no way she could wriggle free. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip became.

“Please release her,” urged Fraser, stepping between Ray and Bell. “Detective Vecchio is going to lower his weapon.” He turned to Ray and raised his eyebrows in a pleading gesture. 

Bell snarled at Fraser. “I’m…I’m…I’m not listening to you. You’re a Mountie.”

“Yes I am,” replied Fraser, proudly. “My name is Constable Benton Fraser and this is my partner, Detective Vecchio, who is about to put his gun away. I hope.” He turned and glared at Ray again.

Ray realised his mistake immediately. The sight of a gun had completely freaked out Bell, just as Lucinda had described. 

_Bernard Wilson was right, this guy’s a nut job…_ His eyes were wild and staring.

Ray had no idea what Bell was capable of and, much to Fraser’s frustration, decided that putting his weapon away now would be a really bad idea. Bell held all the cards, or, more accurately, he held Dippy.

Dippy let out a strangled noise and tried again to get away from her captor, but he just tightened his grip on her arm. Tears started welling in her eyes, but she was determined not to let him see her cry.

“Let her go,” said Fraser, taking a step closer.

“Stay back!” yelled Bell. “I’ll…I’ll break her neck. I will. I’ll do it.”

Fraser could tell that he meant it and that he was fully capable of carrying out his threat. Bell had positioned his arm in such a way that one quick twist and Dippy’s petite neck would snap. Military training, Fraser realised.

“Ray, I really think you should lower your weapon, if you’d be so kind. Please. Now,” said Fraser, without taking his eyes off Bell. “And when he does, will you agree to release the young lady?” he asked Bell.

“I’m not agreeing to anything you say, Mountie,” he spat.

“We can help you,” said Fraser in a gentle voice. “We know about McGarratt.” 

Bell flinched at the sound of that name. He started to shake his head wildly in a desperate attempt to clear the fog. “You…you know?” he asked.

“Yes,” confirmed Fraser. “We know that he manipulated you into helping him. We know he used your gun.”

“He didn’t listen to me!” exclaimed Bell. “I…I told him not to do it, I told him, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“I will listen to you, I promise,” replied Fraser, earnestly.

Bell was so confused. This Mountie wanted to help him? It made no sense. Mounties are not to be trusted, he reminded himself. “No!” screamed Bell. “You’re a Mountie! You can’t help me.”

“Come on, pal,” said Ray. “I’m not a Mountie. I’ll drop the gun if you let her go. Deal?”

Ray waited for a reply. He couldn’t see any other way out of this right now; he didn’t have a clear shot, not with Dippy so close.

“Have you ever killed a kid?” asked Bell.

Ray was stunned at the sudden question. “Er, a child?” he asked.

“I don’t mean a little kid,” replied Bell. “I mean a kid with a gun. They…they…they have kids in the army over there. Like thirteen, fourteen years old. Younger sometimes. I had no idea. I…I…I didn’t mean to. I mean, I didn’t know. We were supposed to blow up their base. That’s all. No casualties. In and out, that’s what they told us. Except…except I was the only one to get out. The army shrink told me I have PTSD, that’s why I’m crazy. Brannigan, McLaine, Ozzi, they…they didn’t get out. But I shot a kid in the head and I got out. Is that right? Tell me, Mountie, is that right?”

Fraser was speechless. This was the incident in Iraq that Bell had been unable to talk about, he realised.

“And then…then you killed my son!” screamed Bell.

“No, I didn’t,” replied Fraser calmly.

Dippy squeaked as Bell tightened his grip again. He looked at Dippy’s terrified face and suddenly realised he had no idea who she was, or why he had his arm around her neck. He relaxed his grip slightly, but wasn’t about to let her go until the gun was safely away.

“Please,” urged Fraser. “I know you don’t want to hurt her. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone else. I’m so sorry about what happened to your son, but this young woman had nothing to do with it. Please let her go.”

Bell thought for a moment and looked deep into Fraser’s eyes. Maybe he could trust this man after all? Maybe this Mountie could help him like he’d promised?

“OK,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” smiled Fraser. He turned to Ray. “On three,” he nodded.

“On three, or after three?” asked Ray. “Coz last time you did this I went on three and you didn’t.”

“On three,” replied Fraser. “When I say three. Understood?”

“Yep. Gotcha,” confirmed Ray. “So it’s one, two, three and I’ll put the gun away.”

“Precisely.”

“Greatness.”

The exchange, of course, had been a time wasting tactic and Bell hadn’t noticed the two men and a wolf carefully getting themselves into position. They weren’t taking any chances. Bell was clearly unstable and his actions could not be predicted.

“One,” began Fraser, with a glance at Dief. “Two…three.”

It was all over in a split second. Ray did, as promised, re-holster his gun and Bell released Dippy. Fraser pulled her to safety, but as he did so Bell grabbed the rock from his jacket pocket and in a desperate attempt to escape he hurled it at Fraser.

Ray yelled a warning, but Fraser had already seen it coming and ducked out of the way, pushing Dippy to the ground as he did so. Before Bell had time to do anything else, Dief jumped on him, pinning him up against the wall. Bell looked terrified as the wolf snarled in his face.

“Dief,” said Fraser in a low voice. 

Reluctantly, Dief released his prize. Ray spun the man around to face the wall and kicked his legs apart. “Hands on your head, you’re under arrest, pal,” he said.

Fraser quickly helped Dippy to her feet and then stepped forward to assist Ray as he patted down his prisoner.

No weapons. Hardly surprising in the circumstances, thought Ray. He glanced at Fraser. Maybe he should have put his gun away sooner? Maybe he should never have drawn it in the first place? If Fraser didn’t agree with his decision, he wasn’t showing it. But then, he never shows it, thought Ray. _He’s probably mad with me._ “I had to be sure, buddy,” he said.

“Understood,” nodded Fraser.

_Yeah, he’s mad with me…_

As Ray snapped his handcuffs around Bell’s wrists a quiet voice came from across the hall.

“Ray…Fraser…” It was Dippy. Her voice was trembling and Fraser was immediately concerned.

“It’s alright, it’s over,” he said.

“But…but…” stammered Dippy. “I…I can’t see,” she said. “I can’t see!” she repeated, panic rising in her voice.

For a second, Fraser thought he'd misheard her. "You can't..." he began.

With a quick glance at Ray, who nodded to confirm that he had Bell under control, he ran over to her.

"I can't see!" repeated Dippy. "Oh my god!"

"Alright," Fraser tried to calm her. He took her gently by the hand and led her over to the chair. Dippy waved her other hand out in front of her as she stumbled across the room. 

"Help me!" she wailed.

"Sit down here," urged Fraser and he guided her safely down. "What happened?" He couldn't work out what might have caused her sudden predicament. "Did you hit your head?" he asked as he gently brushed her hair from her face. "Did you get something in your eye? Let me take a look."

Dippy's eyes were firmly shut and she rubbed them hard with her fists. "I don't know," she replied. "I don't know! I totally can't see." 

"Sshhh," Fraser tried to soothe her. "Don't rub at them like that. Try to relax." He looked over to Ray with concern. 

Lucinda slowly opened the door and peered out. She gasped as she saw her brother in handcuffs. 

Then Katy pushed past her. "Dippy, are you OK?" she asked.

Lucinda pulled her back. "Everything's fine now," she said, unconvinced.

"But Dippy’s hurt,” whined Katy.

“I’m fine, sweetie,” lied Dippy and, with a quick glance at Fraser, Lucinda dragged her daughter back into the other room. Katy had witnessed enough in the last few days, she didn’t need to see any more, Lucinda decided.

"Fraser, where are you?" Dippy asked in a shaky voice. She waved her hand in front of her and Fraser took it in his and squeezed it supportively.

"I'm right here," he replied gently. "Now, let me look at your eyes. The fall may have caused an injury."

"I'm scared," whispered Dippy.

"I know," replied Fraser. "Serendipity, listen to me. I remember reading in a book in my grandparents' library about a neurological condition known as hysterical blindness.”

Dippy nodded. "But I'm not hysterical," she replied as calmly as she could. "I'm just, like, totally freaking out!"

"I know, I know," said Fraser with half a smile. "It's the brain’s way of coping with an excessive amount of stress. With no obvious physical cause there’s a possibility that is what you're currently experiencing and if it is then rest assured it is a temporary condition. But will you please allow me to examine your eyes just to make sure.”

Dippy nodded and Fraser began by gently prising open the eyelids of her left eye with his thumbs. He couldn’t see any obvious damage or any debris. Then he moved to the other eye, but Dippy backed away.

“Let me see the other one,” he said.

“No, it’s OK,” muttered Dippy.

“We don’t know that for sure,” replied Fraser. “Just let me look.”

“No, I mean, like, it’s OK I’m not blind,” said Dippy, the corners of her mouth slowly forming a smile. She blinked deeply and opened her eyes wide. “I can...I can see after all!”

“You can?” Fraser was bewildered.

“Yeah,” replied Dippy, bashfully. “I guess I just, like, had my eyes shut.”

“What?” exclaimed Ray. “Jeez, Dippy!”

“Sorry, guys,” she said getting to her feet. She felt really silly for having worried everyone. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be blind and now I guess I know. Well kinda, anyway. It’s pretty scary. I think blind people are like, totally amazing! I have no idea how they don’t, like, get totally lost the whole time because I get lost all the time and I can see where I’m going. Unless it’s dark and I’ve lost my flashlight, which kinda happens a lot I guess. So, Ray, shouldn’t you, like take this guy to the station for processing now?”

Bell looked at Ray. “Does she ever stop talking?” he asked.

Ray shook his head. “Nope,” he replied.

“What are we going to do with you, Serendipity Turnbull?” Fraser asked with a smile.

Dippy smiled back and shrugged. For one very rare moment, she had no answer.


	11. Chapter 11

“Oh Ren, I was so scared. He had his hand round my throat.” Dippy sat on the edge of Turnbull’s hospital bed as she told him all about the day’s events. “Then I totally thought I was blind,” she continued. “I feel kinda silly, now especially ‘coz Fraser was, like, real worried about me. I mean, I guess I was so freaked out I didn’t think to open my eyes. I don’t know how you Mounties do it. Facing danger every day, I mean. I could never be a cop. You guys are, like, soooo brave.”

Turnbull smiled at his sister. The truth was, of course, that working at the Consulate rarely involved facing danger, unless you counted facing the wrath of Inspector Thatcher when his cleaning efforts weren’t up to her exacting standards. “I’m just glad you’re alright,” he said.

“Me too,” agreed Dippy. “And Katy and her mum are OK too. That Jonathan Bell guy went kinda nuts. I don’t think even he, like, knew what he was doing. It’s really sad, though, ‘coz he was in the war and, y’know, that must’ve been, like, awful having to shoot people and stuff. I mean, that’s like the worst job ever, isn’t it? Killing people for a job. Although I guess if you’re, like, a hit-man, or just a psycho, I guess you enjoy it…I don’t know? All that criminal psychology is totally beyond me. I could never be a criminal.” 

Turnbull couldn’t help but smile at his sister’s ramblings. It was good to have her here and although he had been shocked when he’d heard what Bell had done, he was proud of the way she had dealt with the situation.

Just then Ray appeared at the door. “Hey, Turnbull,” he said. “You’re looking good.”

“Thank you, Detective,” replied Turnbull. He was feeling much stronger today and there had been talk of him being sent home in the next day or two which had helped lift his spirits.

“I left Fraser with Bell,” explained Ray. Jonathan Bell was in the psychiatric wing of the hospital for evaluation. Protocol dictated that an armed officer stayed with him at all times, although Ray didn’t think the guy was a flight risk. If anything, Ray thought to himself, he’s a suicide risk.

“How is he?” asked Dippy. “I know he threatened to, like, kill me, but I still feel really sorry for him.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ray. “He’s, er, well he’s not making a whole lotta sense right now. He’s giving us information about McGarratt, but he keeps rambling on about, er, Iraq and his son. Poor guy can’t focus on anything right now. His head’s screwed.”

xXxXxX

Jonathan Bell sobbed into Fraser’s handkerchief. Fraser glanced up at the psychiatrist who had insisted on staying in the room with them while they talked. She didn’t look very happy.

“Constable, I am going to have to insist that you leave,” said the psychiatrist. “You are distressing my patient.”

“Dr Bailey, a dangerous criminal is at large,” began Fraser. “Other lives may be in danger. This man may be able to help us locate him.”

“He needs to rest,” replied Dr Bailey and she held up a syringe containing what Fraser could only presume was a sedative.

Fraser nodded sadly. At times he had been getting somewhere with Bell, but then emotion would overwhelm the man and he’d lose focus. Fraser understood why Ray had decided to leave the room; he could tell his partner had become completely frustrated with the situation. They needed answers, preferably a location for McGarratt, but Bell was unable to give them the information they needed. Fraser stood up and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Bell called out. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Constable, please, don’t go. I…I…”

“It’s alright, we can talk another time,” replied Fraser. “The doctor is correct, you should rest.”

“But…but I’m sorry,” said Bell. “I’m sorry for all of this. I need to do something to help you find McGarratt. It’s all my fault.”

“No,” said Fraser with a shake of his head. “This is not your fault. Leave this to us now; you must concentrate on your own health.”

“But…I don’t know how to …” said Bell.

“Lucinda is outside,” said Fraser. “Would you like me to send her in?” He glanced across at the door, knowing an armed officer was still standing guard outside and he wondered what must be going through Lucinda’s mind. She had seen her brother at his lowest and she had been very upset when they’d brought him to the hospital in handcuffs.

“No,” replied Bell. “I can’t let her see me like this. I’ve put her and little Katy through enough already. I didn’t mean to drag them into my mess. I didn’t even realise everything was such a mess. Oh god, Constable, what am I going to do? What’s going to happen to me? I don’t understand what’s happening.” Tears began streaming down his face again and Fraser put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

“Dr Bailey, may I please have a moment alone with Mr Bell?” Fraser asked.

The psychiatrist sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Five minutes,” she said and as she left the room, Fraser sat himself back down on the chair again. He drew a deep breath and began to speak.

“The Inuit tell an old tale of a bear cub,” he began.

“Oh no, not the bear cub story, son.”

Fraser was startled by the sudden appearance of his father. He cleared his throat and rubbed furiously at his left eyebrow with his thumbnail. “Many moons ago, before man came to the river…” he continued, deliberately ignoring the ghost.

“Tell him the one about the two caribou and the furry night crawlers,” Bob Fraser interrupted him.

Fraser let out a slow breath and turned away from Bell. “The caribou die,” he mumbled, hoping the man wouldn’t notice.

“Oh yes, so they do,” agreed Bob. “Well then maybe it’s not really appropriate. Alright, son, stick with the bear cub.”

Fraser glared at his father who just shrugged and made himself comfortable in the other chair.

“The bear cub would fish with his older siblings at the same place every day where they knew it was safe,” Fraser continued, returning his attentions to Bell.

Bell listened intently as Fraser recited the story he’d first heard from his old friend Quinn when he was a boy. Fraser hoped the tale of the cub who, when he found himself lost and alone, discovered an inner strength he never knew he had, would inspire Bell. From the look on the man’s face it seemed to be working.

“So in the end,” Fraser concluded, “the bear cub realised that he wasn’t quite as lost as he thought he was.”

Bell nodded slowly. “He…he said something about getting a job,” he said suddenly.

Fraser’s eyes widened in anticipation. “Do you remember anything else?” he prompted.

“I…I’m not sure,” replied Bell. “He said he needed the money. And he always smelled of…I don’t know…tacos, maybe?”

“Tacos?” queried Fraser.

Bell nodded. “I thought maybe he had a job in a kitchen. I didn’t ask. McGarratt doesn’t like people asking too many questions.”

Fraser smiled. It may not be much to go on, but at least it was something. “Thank you kindly,” he said and got up to leave, just as the door opened and Dr Bailey walked back in pointing to the clock on the wall.

“I promise I’ll try to be more like that bear cub,” Bell called out to Fraser. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy and maybe I’ll slip on a few wet rocks along the way,” he continued, alluding to Fraser’s story, “but I will sort myself out and I will make up for all the mistakes I’ve made. I owe it to Lucinda…and I owe it to my son.”

xXxXx

“So, er, is there anything else you remember?” Ray asked Turnbull. He was keen to get back out on the streets to look for McGarratt, but they had no idea where to start looking. Dippy had offered a few suggestions, but Ray decided it was unlikely the man would be getting his hair cut, or at the movie theatre when he knew the cops were after him. “I know ya said somethin’ about the building across the street, Turnbull, but we searched the whole place right after it happened and there was no one there.”

Turnbull tried to pull himself up straighter in the bed, but a sharp pain at the site of the bullet wound made him wince. Dippy grabbed his arm and looked at him with concern.

“You OK?” Ray asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” replied the young Mountie. “I think my meds are wearing off, that’s all. I don’t like taking them, but the doctors say…”

“Renfield, you have to do what the doctor tells you,” replied Dippy with a frown. 

Turnbull nodded and smiled. “You sounded just like Mum when you said that,” he said. 

Dippy smiled back and then her smile faded. “I wish they would hurry up and get here,” she said quietly. “It’s been days.”

“Fraser said something about a storm up in Snowsville,” said Ray. “He figured that must’ve held up your folks for a day or two.”

“Most likely,” agreed Turnbull. “Although I must object to your use of the sobriquet of ‘Snowsville’, Detective. I believe you meant it in a derogatory fashion and besides, it is somewhat inaccurate. For one thing, the temperature in that part of Canada regularly rises above freezing, particularly at this time of the year and…”

“Turnbull, it was a term of, er, endearment,” Ray interrupted him with a grin. Although he was glad to see Turnbull almost back to his old self, Ray was reminded how annoying he could be…more annoying than Fraser, which was saying something.

“In that case, I apologise for my over-reaction,” replied Turnbull, humbly. “And to answer your previous question, I’m afraid I remember very little about the shooting.”

“You were in a pretty bad way,” noted Ray. “You pointed across the street and said ‘window’. D’ya remember that?”

Turnbull closed his eyes and tried to think back. He remembered the pain as the bullet hit him. He remembered feeling as if he’d let everyone down by getting shot. He remembered thinking that Constable Fraser would have seen or heard the bullet approaching and somehow avoided it. He remembered…a big hat.

“It was a reflection, Detective,” said Turnbull, his eyes snapping open. “The perpetrator wasn’t firing from the window, I saw his reflection in the window. At least, I saw the reflection of his hat.”

“His hat?” queried Ray. “From all the way across the street?”

“Yes,” confirmed Turnbull. He closed his eyes again. “It was a very large hat,” he explained.

Ray took out his notebook and a pen and laid them on the bed. “Can ya draw this, er, big hat?” he asked.

Turnbull nodded and began scribbling furiously. Ray and Dippy watched as the image took shape on the paper.

“There,” said Turnbull, proudly turning the page around to face Ray. “I’m not entirely happy with the shading on this side,” he said, “but the shape is accurate. The patterns are representative, however. I’m afraid my memories are still somewhat foggy.”

Ray picked up his notebook and stared at the drawing. “That’s, er, that’s one distinctive hat there, Turnbull,” he said. “Are ya sure this is what the guy was wearing when he shot you?”

Dippy peered over his shoulder and then started to giggle. “Were you shot by Speedy Gonzales?” she asked. “Coz that would be, like, totally weird, right? Oh hi, Fraser,” she added as he entered the room.

“Who is this Mr Gonzales?” asked Fraser. “Do we have another suspect?”

“No, buddy,” grinned Ray. “Speedy Gonzales is a rat. Did ya get any sense outta Bell?”

“I thought he was, like, a mouse, Ray,” said Dippy with a frown. “If he was a rat he’d have a longer tail and it would totally get in the way when he was running.”

“Unfortunately not much, Ray, his mental state is very fragile, however he did…” Fraser trailed off. “You believe a rodent shot Constable Turnbull?”

“No, silly,” giggled Dippy. “He’s a cartoon character, but Ren thinks the guy was wearing his hat.”

“The shooter was wearing a hat belonging to a cartoon character?” Fraser began to wonder if he was in the middle of a strange dream.

“Not his actual hat,” Dippy explained. “A hat just like it, though. Look.” She showed Fraser the picture Turnbull had drawn and explained about the reflection.

“It seems very odd that a person intent on committing a violent crime would choose to wear such a distinctive item of headgear,” replied Fraser. 

“You’re right, Constable,” said Turnbull. “I apologise. I must be mistaken. Perhaps this image was something my subconscious created while I was in a coma? I will try to be more observant next time I get shot.”

“Turnbull, you were in no position to…” began Fraser, but then a thought occurred to him. “Tacos,” he said, suddenly.

“You hungry, buddy?” asked Ray. “We can go for take-out, you up for that, Dippy?”

“Sure,” replied Dippy.

“No, Ray, I wasn’t thinking of my nutritional needs,” Fraser tried to explain. “Jonathan Bell believes McGarratt has taken up temporary employment in the food industry here in Chicago,” he continued. “Bell remembers a distinct aroma that reminded him of tacos.”

“So he works in a Mexican restaurant?” suggested Dippy.

“It seems likely,” agreed Fraser.

“And wearing a sombrero could be a requirement of the role?” suggested Turnbull with some excitement.

“Quite possibly,” agreed Fraser.

“OK, I’ll call Frannie,” said Ray, pulling out his phone. “Get her to give us a list of all the Mexican places in the area.”

Dippy squealed with delight. “We’ve got a lead!” she exclaimed. Then her face fell. “I am really hungry though,” she added. “I was kind looking forward to tacos…or maybe a burrito. Back home there’s a place where they make this great moose burrito, with a gallon of chilli sauce and some of those little beans and…”

“Dippy,” Ray interrupted her. “We’ll eat later. Right now we’ve gotta find McGarratt.”

xXxXxXx

 

Ray ran into the station house to collect the list Francesca had compiled for them, leaving Fraser and Dippy in the car.

“We’ll drop you at the Consulate,” said Fraser, turning towards the back seat of the GTO to face her.

Dippy folded her arms and frowned. “But I want to help you, like, get this guy!” she said. “I’ve seen this on TV, like, a million times so I totally know what to do.”

“Serendipity, this man is armed and dangerous,” Fraser reminded her. “And you are a civilian with no police training whatsoever. Watching television drama does not prepare you for real life situations.”

“Can’t I at least watch from the car?” she asked.

“No,” replied Fraser. “I’m sorry.”

Dippy scowled at him and then she turned to look out of the car window to watch for Ray’s reappearance. Dief nuzzled into her.

“But he shot my brother,” she said quietly. “Renfield could be dead because of that man. I hate him. I can’t help it. I just want to, like, shoot him back, to see how he likes it. Or maybe just punch him in the face, or something.” She started to sob. “I…I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t like it, Fraser. I want to hurt someone and I don’t like it.”

Fraser turned round in his seat again. “It’s alright, I understand how you feel,” he said gently. “I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” replied Dippy, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“It’s true,” confirmed Fraser. “And when I finally confronted the man who had pulled the trigger, I…I had feelings I had never experienced before. Feelings similar to the ones you’re describing.”

Fraser usually found it hard to talk about his feelings, but it seemed natural with Dippy. She was so open and honest about her own that it was easy.

“What did you do?”

“I saved his life,” replied Fraser. At Dippy’s puzzled look, Fraser continued. “Some rogue agents wanted him dead, but I could not allow that to happen. I wanted justice for my father. Believe me it took all of my self-control to resist the urge to inflict pain on the man. I would happily have seen him suffer for what he did, but I knew that would have been wrong.”

Fraser closed his eyes and an image of himself punching Gerrard in the face popped into his head. It was an image he’d seen in his mind before. He had no control over its appearance and that scared him a little. Fraser imagined his fist pummelling Gerrard’s face repeatedly, over and over, until blood ran from his nose and his eyes swelled with bruises. Over and over and over… _It’s what he deserves…_

_No, that’s not who I am. I am a Mountie…_

“Fraser? You OK?” Dippy’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Me? Yes…yes…” Fraser blinked hard and regained full control of his thoughts. “What I’m…what I’m trying to say is that it’s alright to have those feelings, as long as you don’t act upon them. I know you don’t really want to hurt anyone, Dippy. You are a good person, with a warm heart.”

Dippy blushed. “Thanks, Fraser,” she said quietly. “But say if he tries to get away and Ray has to, like, shoot him or something. I don’t think I’d care.”

“If that situation arises…” Fraser trailed off and shrugged. Nothing more needed to be said. “I promise you that Ray and I will bring this man to justice and he will pay for what he did to Constable Turnbull.”

Dippy nodded and smiled. Then she reached forward and hugged Fraser the best she could in the confined space of the car.

“I’m gonna, like, miss you guys so much,” she said, choking back more tears. “A couple days ago I thought about moving here, like, permanently so I could be near Ren. I mean, I’ve had, like, the craziest time ever and it’s been so cool, apart from nearly getting killed of course…but you wanna know something totally weird? I think I’m actually homesick.”

xXxXxXx

“OK, we’ll start at Pedro’s Place, then hit Mexxa Mexxa and Taco World,” said Ray as Fraser scanned down the list of addresses Francesca had supplied.

“Be careful you guys,” said Dippy as they drove back to the Consulate. “And don’t forget to pick up some take-out. I’m, like, totally starving! I might have to bake a cake while I’m waiting. I gotta keep busy or I’ll just, like, bite my nails with worry and I don’t wanna do that ‘coz these are acrylics.”

“Try not to worry,” Fraser said reassuringly. Then he turned to Ray. “You realise this may be a wild boar chase.”

“Wild goose chase, Fraser,” Ray corrected him.

“Ah, yes of course,” nodded Fraser. “From Romeo and Juliet.”

Ray looked puzzled. “Er, I don’t think it’s gonna be very romantic, buddy,” he said.

Fraser was about to explain the connection when Dippy shrieked.

“Oh my god, look!” she exclaimed, pointing out of the window. “A big hat! A giant sombrero! On the side of that van!”

Ray screeched the car to a halt and he and Fraser looked across at where Dippy was pointing. A delivery van was parked outside an apartment block. It was painted in the colours of the Mexican flag and the image of a large sombrero adorned the side.

“Look at the reflection, Ray,” said Fraser and he pointed to the window of the building where the brightly coloured design could clearly be seen. “This could be what Constable Turnbull saw reflected in the window just before he was shot.”

“It’s big enough to be seen from across the street,” agreed Ray. He squinted to see the name painted on the van. “Tasty Taco’s,” he read. “Not very original.”

Fraser ran his finger down the list he still had in his hand. “Here,” he said, tapping on the name when he found it. “It’s over on Eastmore. Let’s go there first. McGarratt may be one of their delivery drivers.”

“He could be the one in that building right now,” noted Dippy.

Fraser and Ray glanced at each other. “She has a point,” said Ray and Fraser nodded in agreement. 

“I mean, it would be, like, a freaky coincidence, but he could be,” continued Dippy. “I love coincidences; they’re so weird, aren’t they? I mean, like, when you’re just thinking about someone you haven’t seen for a while and the phone rings and it’s them. How totally weird! And I remember this one time when I was out shopping for a new dress and…”

“OK,” Ray interrupted her. If McGarratt was in the building he’d have time to leave the country before Dippy stopped talking. “Dippy, stay here. We’re gonna go check it out.”

Ray and Fraser got out of the car and Dief bounded after them. Ray checked his gun and nodded towards the building. Fraser set off with Dief, staying in the shadows just in case the driver returned to his vehicle. Ray was about to follow him, but before he did he leaned down and tapped on the window. Dippy wound it down so he could speak to her. 

“If things get, y’know, well…y’know,” he began, “stay down and call for back up.” He nodded towards the radio.

Dippy nodded. Now she was scared. If the man who shot her brother was in that building, then Ray and Fraser could be running into danger.

“Hey,” said Ray, flashing her a toothy grin. “We’ll be fine.”

Dippy watched him run after Fraser and then she sat back in the seat, slowly sliding down so she could only just about see out of the window. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Just a short while ago she had been begging Fraser to let her go with them while they searched for McGarratt. Now the circumstances had resulted in her being here anyway, but she hadn’t realised just how terrified she would be.

_Is this what it’s really like to be a cop? Is this what they go through every day? They’re so brave. My brother is so brave… I’m so proud of him… I wish Mum and Dad were here… I’m hungry… I miss my own bed… and the dogs…_

Dippy’s thoughts were jumbled as she waited, hardly daring to breathe. It felt like she had been waiting for hours, but a quick glance at the clock on the dashboard confirmed it had only been about five minutes. She waited and waited. Another five minutes passed. Her stomach was churning, a  
mixture of hunger and fear.

Suddenly a man ran out from around the back of the building carrying a gun. He almost tripped over a low wall, but somehow managed to keep his balance and ran off along the street. Dippy gasped as Fraser came running after him at full speed, closely followed by Ray and Dief.

“Oh my god!” Dippy exclaimed. She tried to get down between the seats, but she couldn’t quite take her eyes off the action. A gunshot rang out and Dippy screamed. 

_Call for back up…_

She scrambled to the front of the car and picked up the radio handset with a shaky hand. “Hello?” she said. “Hello? Hello?” She looked at all the buttons on the radio and realised she had no idea how to use it. She threw down the handset in frustration and slowly turned to peer out of the window again, hoping that it was all over.

Dippy clamped her hand to her mouth as another gunshot rang out. This time she could see that it was Ray who’d fired, but the bullet had flown harmlessly past McGarratt. She held her breath and watched in awe as Dief and Fraser caught up with the fleeing man. Dief jumped up and grabbed a mouthful of the man’s jacket, pulling him backwards. McGarratt tried to aim his gun at the wolf, but Fraser knocked his arm and the gun went flying out of his hand. McGarratt lost his balance in the confusion and just as Ray caught up with them, Fraser and Dief pinned McGarratt to the ground.

Ray panted hard, trying to catch his breath as he yelled at McGarratt. A rush of emotion overwhelmed Dippy. She hesitated for a moment, but she couldn’t stop herself and she opened the door and climbed out of the car just as Fraser and Ray were hauling McGarratt to his feet.

Diefenbaker barked at her to stay back, but she ignored him and ran over to the scene, kicking off her three inch heels after a few steps.

“It’s alright,” said Fraser. “He’s under arrest. It’s over.”

Dippy’s breathing was rapid and her head was spinning as she finally came face to face with the man who almost killed her brother. McGarratt looked her up and down. “Who’s the babe?” he asked, wincing as Ray snapped handcuffs around his wrists. 

“Shut up, creep,” snarled Ray.

Dippy took another step closer. Fraser held out his hand to stop her, he wasn’t sure what she was going to do and after their conversation in the car earlier he didn’t want her to do something she’d regret later.

Dippy clenched both her hands into fists at her side. Her mind was racing, but then she thought about everything that had happened and she thought about Fraser’s words and realised that he was right, she didn’t want to hurt anyone. Well, maybe just a little bit… 

In a split second Dippy had pushed past Fraser and slapped McGarratt in the face. “That was for my brother and for Constable Conti and for all the Mounties that you said all those totally dumb things about,” she said.

McGarratt desperately wanted to rub his stinging face, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. “Did you see what that crazy bitch did to me?” he said to Ray, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to restore some feeling.

“Hey, show some respect, you jerk,” sneered Ray. “She’s a Mountie’s sister.”

Ray looked over at Dippy who was looking slightly stunned and now had Fraser’s arm around her shoulder. He couldn’t help but grin. “Nice job,” he said with a wink.


	12. Chapter 12

“You know, Dief, I’m totally exhausted. I might just go to bed early.”

Dippy rubbed Diefenbaker’s ears as she spoke. She felt emotionally drained and was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Fraser and Ray were still at the station processing McGarratt.

Dief yapped a reply and Dippy smiled at him.

“I know,” she said. “And you’re, like, totally right, I think everything has just hit me now it’s all over. I mean, oh my god, I never thought I’d get mixed up in something like this. It’s so boring back home. But I guess I wanted to come here to the big city because I thought it would be exciting, so I kinda got what I wanted.”

Dief yapped again and pawed at her leg.

“No, I’m OK,” she reassured him. “Really I am. I just want to sleep for, like, a whole week or something.”

Dief barked and jumped up to rest both front paws on her lap.

“I’m going to miss you, Dief,” she said. “Fraser and Ray are so nice and kind and everything, but, like, I think you’re the only one who really gets me.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of his head. His fur tickled her nose and she giggled, but the giggle soon turned into a yawn.

Dief barked again.

“OK, bossy boots!” she exclaimed. “I already said I was going to bed, didn’t I? When Fraser gets home just tell him I’m, like, totally OK. I think he was kinda worried about me this morning.”

Dippy kissed Dief again and headed out into the hall, but before she had got as far as the stairs there was a knock at the door. She glanced down at Dief. Even though she knew McGarratt was in jail, she was still nervous about opening the door to a stranger.

Diefenbaker made a low, growling noise in his throat.

“I can’t just ignore it,” replied Dippy with her hands on her hips. “It might be important. Like, a visiting diplomat, or someone who needs help.” She walked over to the door, just as the knocking came again. Dief stayed protectively close as she opened the door a tiny crack and peered out.

“Um, the Consulate is, like, closed right now,” she began, but then she saw who was standing there and flung the door open in surprise. “Mum! Dad!” she exclaimed. “You made it!”

Dippy flung her arms around her parents and hugged them tightly. She finally released them and stepped aside as they dragged their bags into the hall.

“Oh Serendipity,” smiled Dippy’s mother. “What a journey! I can’t believe we’re finally here, can you, David?” She began removing layers of clothing from her tall, slender, frame.

Dippy’s father shook his head. “How’s Renfield?” he asked. “Is he alright?”

“He’s OK now,” replied Dippy. “He’s coming home tomorrow.” She looked down at Diefenbaker. “This is Dief,” she said. “He’s Fraser’s wolf. Fraser lives here; he’s a Mountie, he works with Ren…oh my god I’m so glad you’re here at last!” She clapped her hands with delight, but then her smile suddenly faded and her hands fell to her sides. “Where the hell have you been?” she asked.

“Mind your language, Serendipity,” scolded her father, his bushy, grey eyebrows almost covering his eyes as he frowned.

“No,” replied Dippy defiantly. She put her hands on her hips and stood her ground. “I am not a child and you totally cannot tell me what to do.”

Dippy’s parents were shocked at her sudden outburst. 

“The journey was awful,” her mother began to explain. “We hitched a lift on a transport flight, but then a storm hit and we got redirected to…where was it again, David?”

“Saskatoon,” replied Dippy’s father.

“Saskatoon? Isn’t that…” began Dippy, but she was interrupted by the front door opening again. “Oh, Inspector Thatcher!” Dippy exclaimed, dropping into a curtsey. “I wasn’t expecting you. What can I get you? Coffee, perhaps?”

“Please, you don’t need to…” began the Inspector, wishing that Dippy would stop treating her like royalty. Then she suddenly became aware of the presence of two rather bedraggled looking strangers. She looked at Dippy for an explanation.

_Please tell me Fraser hasn’t offered shelter to more homeless people…_

“Oh, these are my parents,” said Dippy. “Mine and Renfield’s,” she added, as if that needed explaining. “Mum, Dad, this is Inspector Thatcher. She’s Ren’s commanding officer here.”

“Inspector, we’ve heard so much about you,” said David Turnbull and he bowed his head respectfully. “I’m David and this is my wife, Deanna,” he said and Deanna curtseyed beside him.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t…” she said.

“Renfield often writes about how proud he is to be working here with you,” Deanna explained. “He has so much respect for you, Inspector.”

“He…he does?” Meg felt suddenly awkward. “I…I don’t think…” She couldn’t get any words out. Turnbull had told his parents that he respected her, but she didn’t feel like she deserved his respect. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your son,” she said.

“He was just doing his duty,” replied David. “He’s always known the risks that come with serving as an officer of the RCMP. You have no need to be sorry.”

“But…but you don’t understand,” began Meg, but Mr and Mrs Turnbull weren’t listening. 

“Did you say something about coffee, Serendipity?” asked Deanna. “I don’t usually drink it, but after the journey we’ve had I could certainly use a cup.”

“Inspector, have you ever seen the vulpes lagopus giving birth?” asked David. “That’s an arctic fox,” he added at the Inspector’s puzzled look.

“No, but…” began Meg.

“Well it’s the most wonderful sight,” smiled David. “When we got the message about our son we’d been observing a large den. They’re beautiful creatures and we’d earned their trust, so they let us get closer than we ever have before.”

“That’s…um, that’s fascinating, but I’m not sure that this is the time…” Meg tried again, but she couldn’t stop Dippy’s father once he was in full flow. 

_I can see where the girl gets it from now._

“Deanna, where are the photos?” asked David. “Show the photographs to the Inspector. You’ll be amazed at how close we got. The mother was wary of us, of course, but we knew if we were patient she would allow us to observe.”

“Here they are!” exclaimed Deanna as she pulled a crumpled packet of photos from her bag. “We got them developed at the airport in Vancouver while we were waiting for our connecting flight.”

“What were you doing in Vancouver?” asked Meg, trying to envisage how their journey to Chicago could have taken them all the way to the west coast of Canada.

“Oh look, here’s the first time we saw the male,” smiled Deanna, ignoring Meg’s question as she shoved a photograph under her nose. “And here’s the hideout we built. David dug into the den so we could observe the births.”

Meg tried to think of something polite to say, but nothing came to mind and she was having trouble getting a word in edgeways anyway. She glanced over at Dippy, who appeared to be close to tears. Dippy caught her eye and turned away.

“Um, perhaps we could…” began the Inspector. She was concerned about Dippy, but she didn’t get chance to finish her sentence.

“Of course, what was I thinking?” David interrupted her. 

“Well, it’s not that I’m not interested, but…”

“Is there somewhere we can sit down?” asked David. “We can’t expect you to stand while you look at over three hundred photos.”

“Three hundred?” Meg almost physically balked at the idea.

“Yes, we were so lucky to be able to document the births of all seven kits,” smiled Deanna proudly.

Meg glanced at Dippy again, but the younger woman just shrugged in resignation and turned towards the kitchen.

Meg was helpless as she was ushered into the other room to look at more photographs.

In the kitchen, Dippy tried desperately to hold herself together as she set some coffee mugs on the worktop. Dief trotted up behind her and whined sympathetically. 

Dippy turned to look at the wolf and tears began streaming down her face. “Oh Dief, I know they, like, love me and Renfield, but…but…” She crouched down and wrapped her arms around the wolf, burying her face into his fur as she sobbed. “They haven’t even, like, asked anything about what happened? Just… just if he was OK and that was all.”

Dief gently licked the tears from her face and yapped quietly in her ear.

“I can’t do that!” she exclaimed, pulling away from him slightly. “Not in front of the Inspector.” 

She sighed and got to her feet. Dief watched her with some concern as she finished assembling a tray of drinks and snacks to take to her parents.

It was almost an hour later before Inspector Thatcher was finally able to announce that she had a lot of paperwork to do and had only stopped by the Consulate briefly to pick up some documents from her office. The Turnbulls were very apologetic when they realised they’d kept her from important RCMP work.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you both,” the Inspector said through gritted teeth as she backed away towards the door. “And again, I’m so sorry about what happened to Constable Turnbull.”

Dippy watched the Inspector leave the room as her parents packed away the photos and maps that they’d been boring the Inspector with for the past hour. Dippy had sat in virtual silence the whole time. She realised all the emotion of the past few days was about to come to a head and she didn’t want Inspector Thatcher of all people to witness the fallout. She knew she couldn’t keep it all inside forever though.

“What a wonderful lady,” smiled David as they finally heard the front door click as Meg left the Consulate. “No wonder Renfield is so honoured to be working with her.”

Dippy nodded silently.

Deanna frowned at her. “Is something wrong, dear?” she asked.

Dippy bit her lip hard until she tasted blood. She didn’t want to fight with her parents, not now, but there were things that needed to be said. She’d grown up a lot during her short time in Chicago had she was not at all happy with the way her parents had simply breezed into her new life as if nothing had changed. 

_Everything’s changed…Ren nearly died…I could have died…and they don’t even understand…_

“They have, like, phones in Vancouver, right?” she said quietly. It wasn’t how she’d hoped to start this conversation. Sarcasm wasn’t one of her most appealing traits, but sometimes it came too easily.

“Yes, of course,” replied David, puzzled.

“I mean, I know you, like, went all over the damn country trying to get here,” Dippy continued, “but you could’ve just phoned back again to see if Ren was OK…to see if I was OK…because…because…I was totally not OK! OK?”

David and Deanna looked at each other in stunned silence.

“But you said Renfield was being discharged from the hospital tomorrow,” said Deanna.

“He’s OK now,” replied Dippy raising her voice. “But he nearly died and I got on, like, the first plane down here, by myself and I was scared, but I did it anyway.”

“I’m sure Renfield was pleased to see you,” replied David, cautiously. He had no idea what had got into his daughter.

“He was in a coma!” exclaimed Dippy. “Don’t you get it? He needed you here too. I needed you! And you weren’t here,” continued Dippy, unable to hold back her tears any more. “I went totally crazy when I got here,” she sobbed. “I have no idea what I was thinking. I just couldn’t get my head straight. I thought I wanted to, like, take drugs and I nearly got raped and then I was so mixed up I kissed Ray!”

“Who’s Ray?” asked David in shock. His little baby girl did all those things? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Ray is a friend,” replied Dippy. “We’re cool now. If it wasn’t for Ray and Fraser I don’t know what might have happened. The guy that shot Ren nearly killed me and I had to, like, protect Katy because her uncle has got this PT, er, PTS, er, well anyway he didn’t really know what he was doing, but I thought I’d gone blind!”

“Who’s Katy?” asked Deanna, looking at her husband who was none the wiser.

“You don’t know because you weren’t here!” exclaimed Dippy. “You’re never around when we need you…like, ever! Stupid vulpes lagopus, or purple saxifrage, or…or…lepus arcticus…you love all those things more than me and Ren!”

Deanna’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Serendipity, that’s…that’s just not true,” she began. “Your father and I…we…we love you and your brother. We love you more than anything in the world.”

Dippy couldn’t speak any more as the tears fell. Her mother stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Her father just stood and stared silently at his wife and daughter.

Diefenbaker began to bark and Dippy pulled away from her mother and spun round. “Oh…Fraser!” she exclaimed when she saw the Mountie in the doorway. “You’re back already.”

Fraser rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumb. “I’m…I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he began, awkwardly.

“How long have you been standing there?” asked Dippy, her face flushing red as she thought back over all the things she’d just said.

“Er, um…” Fraser stammered. “I arrived just as Inspector Thatcher left.”

“Oh,” replied Dippy, hanging her head in shame. She took a deep breath and looked up at her mother. “Mum, I’m sorry,” she said, fighting back more tears. “I didn’t mean….I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright,” Deanna replied, struggling with her own emotions. “I think your father and I are the ones who should be apologising. We had no idea you felt like this.”

“So you’re Fraser,” said David, cautiously. “I think we spoke on the telephone.”

Fraser nodded and shook David’s hand. 

“And is this, er, Ray here too?” asked David. “I think I’d like to meet him.”

“Not at this juncture,” replied Fraser. 

“Dad, don’t freak out!” exclaimed Dippy. “It was just a kiss. Like, a misunderstanding. I was being really weird and dumb, but we’re soooo over it now.”

“Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” asked Fraser, deliberately changing the subject.

“Yes, a nice man in Halifax called ahead and booked us into a hotel,” explained Deanna.

“What were you doing in Halifax?” asked Fraser in surprise.

“It’s a long story,” replied Dippy. “And you don’t have to go to a hotel; you can stay here, right Fraser?”

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” insisted David. “We don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“And I think we’d like to start afresh tomorrow,” continued Deanna, glancing nervously at her husband. “It appears that tomorrow we have a lot of talking to do.”

Fraser called a taxi and Dippy’s parents were soon on their way to their hotel. As Fraser closed the door behind them he realised that Dippy was crying again.

“Sshhh,” he soothed. He was surprised she had any more tears left.

“I didn’t mean to say all those things,” Dippy sobbed, falling against his chest. “Now I’ve ruined everything.”

“But you simply told them how you feel,” replied Fraser, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. “It has been my experience that bottling up one’s feelings can be rather unhealthy.”

“But you never, like, yell at people, or cry like a baby,” replied Dippy. “You don’t lose it like I just did.

“You’d be surprised,” replied Fraser, the corners of his mouth twitching into a knowing smile. “You know, your parents appear to be very reasonable people. They seemed quite alarmed to discover how you feel. I’m sure once you’ve talked it through you’ll be able to find a resolution and move forward.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Dippy with a sniff.

Fraser nodded and smiled.

“I hope so,” said Dippy. “I never meant to hurt them with the things I said.”

“But they needed to be said,” replied Fraser.

Dippy nodded and sighed. “Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, they did.”

xXxXxXx

“It’s…it’s good to have you back, Constable.”

Inspector Thatcher smiled a genuine smile at her young officer. Constable Turnbull was reclining on the sofa propped up by several pillows and cushions. Meg was relieved that he was alive; she was still struggling with the guilt of knowing that she was the one who had put him in the firing line.

“Thank you, sir,” replied Turnbull. “It’s good to be back. I shall resume light duties this afternoon.”

“No you will not,” replied the Inspector sternly. “You are to rest until the doctor confirms you’re fit to work. And tell me again…you’ve only been back from the hospital for an hour, so how exactly did you manage to accidentally remove the entire bandage?”

Fraser tore open a packet of gauze and placed it carefully over the site of Turnbull’s bullet wound. The hospital had supplied spare dressings, but he hadn’t anticipated needing any of them already so he was curious to hear his young colleague’s explanation again.

“Well you see, sir,” began Turnbull. “I’m not entirely sure myself. I was…well, I was…um…”

“Using the restroom,” prompted Thatcher. That much she knew already.

“Yes, exactly,” nodded Turnbull, his cheeks blushing slightly. “Somehow I got my belt caught in the end of the adhesive tape and, as I was trying to detach it, the tape became wound around my finger and in the ensuing confusion the entire bandage somehow came off completely. I do apologise most sincerely for my incompetence. I will submit a full report at the earliest opportunity.”

“That won’t be necessary,” replied the Inspector, rolling her eyes. If she asked Turnbull for a report on every occasion of his incompetence she would need a bigger filing cabinet, she thought.

“There,” said Fraser, pressing the last strip of surgical tape over the dressing. It was a huge relief to have Turnbull back, alive and well. The Consulate hadn’t been the same without him, although Fraser started to wonder if that was actually a good thing.

“Thank you,” nodded Turnbull appreciatively.

Just then Ray came bounding into the room, full of excited energy. Diefenbaker, who had been snoozing on the rug, opened one eye, but then quickly shut it again once he realised Ray hadn’t brought doughnuts.

“Detective Vecchio!” exclaimed Inspector Thatcher. “How did you get in?”

“Oh, er, I, er…” Ray stuttered. He hadn’t expected the Inspector to be there. She was still unaware of Ray’s little credit card door opening trick. He looked at Fraser for help, but Fraser was silent. 

Ray rolled his eyes. _You can explain this one to the Ice Queen later, buddy…_

“Hey Turnbull,” he grinned, deliberately sidestepping the subject. “You look good. Wanna know somethin’ interesting?”

“Interesting in what sense?” asked Fraser as he peeled off the sterile gloves he’d been wearing to tend to Turnbull.

“In the sense of it being interesting!” exclaimed Ray. “McGarratt’s gun, the one he was using yesterday when we busted him, guess what ballistics turned up.”

“That the gun was used in the homicide in Saskatchewan several years ago for which McGarratt’s brother was arrested and subsequently cleared?” offered Fraser. “Which suggests that it was Andrew McGarratt who committed that murder, although he allowed his brother to take the rap, to use the colloquial, leading to the younger McGarratt’s incarceration and subsequent accidental death while in custody awaiting trial?”

“Er…er…well, yeah,” replied Ray. His shoulders slumped as he realised Fraser had taken away his opportunity to explain everything. 

“No wonder the man wanted to use Jonathan Bell’s gun to shoot Mounties,” noted Thatcher. “He didn’t want anything to tie him into the murder in Saskatchewan.”

“Exactly,” noted Ray, still deflated that his big revelation had been usurped. Suddenly he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “So, er, Turnbull, I picked up a few videos for ya to watch while you’re convoluting.”

“Convalescing, Ray,” Fraser corrected him as Ray handed Turnbull a bag.

Turnbull pulled out the videos and frowned at the covers. “The Terminator…” he read. “Aliens…Die Hard…oh dear.”

“What’s up?” asked Ray.

Turnbull tried to smile. “These movies look somewhat…violent.”

“Yeah,” nodded Ray. “And?” He looked from Turnbull to Fraser and back again before he realised his mistake. “Oh, right, not your kinda thing. Sorry.”

“Thank you for the kind thought,” smiled Turnbull, graciously.

“I’ll take ‘em back to the video store,” shrugged Ray. “What exactly do you Canadians watch when ya need cheerin’ up anyway?” he asked.

Fraser and Turnbull glanced at each other before replying in unison. “Curling!”

Ray rolled his eyes.

“I really have to go,” announced Inspector Thatcher, glancing at her watch. The last thing she wanted was to get into a discussion about curling. “I have a meeting with the Swedish Ambassador this morning that I have been putting off for days.”

“I spoke to Stella,” said Ray as the Inspector turned to go. “She’s onto it. McGarratt’s goin’ down for the Mountie shootings, no doubt about it, and she’s gonna liaise with the Canadian lawyers about the old case and, er…er…” Ray completely lost his train of thought as he spoke about his ex-wife. He quickly glanced at Fraser hoping no one had noticed, but Fraser had, of course, and he gave his friend a small, supportive smile.

Turnbull let out a slow breath as he thought about the man who had shot him. “Justice will prevail,” he said and Fraser nodded sincerely.

Inspector Thatcher left the room and Fraser followed her. “Constable Turnbull will be fine, sir,” he said as she reached for the door handle.

Meg spun round and stared at him. “I am aware of that, Fraser,” she snapped.

“Well, yes, of course,” replied Fraser, looking at the floor uncomfortably. “It’s just that, what I mean is that…I was concerned about certain feelings you mentioned just after the incident.”

“I got over it,” Meg interrupted him abruptly. “My feelings are none of your concern.” As soon as the words had left her lips she regretted them. _He’s just making sure I’m alright because he cares about me…_

“Yes, sir. I mean, no sir.” Fraser cleared his throat, wishing he’d never mentioned it.

Meg sighed. “I’m…sorry,” she said almost under her breath. 

Fraser lifted his head and his gaze locked with hers. He nodded slowly, trying desperately to convey understanding without words. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to open herself up to him because she was afraid of what might happen if she did. Fraser understood completely. He knew exactly what might happen and neither of them could afford to make that mistake. _Would it be a mistake? Probably…_

Meg tried to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. _Thank you, Ben…_

Then a sudden knock at the door broke into the silence and shattered the moment. Fraser opened it and Dippy and her parents strode into the Consulate.

“Hi Fraser,” smiled Dippy. “Inspector,” she added, bending her knee to curtsy. Her mother copied the gesture, while her father bowed his head. 

Fraser was pleased to see Dippy’s mood had improved vastly since first thing this morning. She had been terribly nervous about seeing her parents again. They’d agreed to meet at the hotel and talk over breakfast and Dippy had hoped that she could make them understand how she felt. From the looks on their faces it appeared the talk had gone well.

“I was just leaving,” said Meg and rushed out of the door. Dippy and her parents didn’t seem to mind her sudden departure. 

“Constable Fraser, it seems I owe you a debt of gratitude for taking care of my daughter,” said David Turnbull.

“Not at all,” replied Fraser. “Serendipity is quite the independent young woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

“Kind of,” added Dippy with a grin. 

“Constable Turnbull is waiting to see you,” said Fraser, indicating towards the reception room.

“He’s here?” asked Deanna Turnbull and Fraser nodded. Deanna and David rushed into the room to see their son, but Dippy hung back. 

When her parents were out of earshot she spoke to Fraser. “It went OK,” she said in a low voice. “I love them so much. They promised me we’re gonna spend more time together when they can and, like, things are gonna change at home. They get so wrapped up in their research and they totally didn’t realise how I felt. I kinda wish we’d talked about it all years ago, but we’ve talked now and, like, I’m so happy and they were, like, totally cool about me going to college.”

“College?” This was the first Fraser had heard of it.

“Yes, silly,” grinned Dippy. “So I can get a diploma and work with pre-school kids. I know I’ll probably be, like, the oldest student there, but I don’t care. I can do this, I know I can.”

Fraser smiled proudly. “I believe you can,” he said.

Dippy hugged him tightly and ran into the room to join her family. “Hi Ray,” she said as Ray walked out into the hall.

“Jeez, do those Turnbull’s ever shut up?” asked Ray under his breath. A few minutes with David and Deanna had been exhausting.

Fraser shrugged.

“Has the Ice Queen left already?” asked Ray. “I forgot to tell her about that creep Bernard Wilson. He was in deeper than he let on. Turns out he was the one who found all the details of the, er, parade in Cincinnati.”

“I see,” replied Fraser. “I’ll be sure to let the Inspector know.”

“And he has previous for, y’know, bein’ a pervert,” added Ray. “So if the Ice Queen wants to reconsider filing charges…”

“She won’t,” replied Fraser, firmly.

“OK, buddy,” shrugged Ray. “She seemed pretty freaked out by the whole thing, though. I’ve never seen anyone get under her skin like that before.”

“Well…” began Fraser, but he trailed off. “The Inspector, um…” he tried again.

“It’s OK,” said Ray, putting him out of his misery. “I get it. It’s none of my business. At least she’s got you, right?”

“Me? Inspector, er, Inspector Thatcher does not…that is, er, um…” stammered Fraser, tugging at the tight collar of his red tunic.

“To talk to,” clarified Ray, with a wink, but he wasn’t going to get anything more out of Fraser on the subject so he gave up. “So, er, how the hell did you know all that about McGarratt anyway, Fraser?”

“I’m sorry if I stole your thunder, as it were,” began Fraser. “But it came to me last night while I was rereading the old case report. There were several things noted from the time of the original investigation that just didn’t add up, the most obvious of which being Andrew McGarratt’s alibi. You see…”

“Y’know, Fraser,” Ray interrupted him. “Tell me later. Right now I need coffee.”

“Of course, Ray,” nodded Fraser and they walked to the kitchen.

“Do you figure Dippy and her parents are gonna be OK?” asked Ray as he opened a biscuit barrel looking for the remains of Dippy’s baking endeavours.

“I hope so,” replied Fraser. “Feelings have been kept hidden for a long time and that breeds discontent, but now they are talking about it I believe they will be fine.”

“And if there’s one thing the Turnbulls are all good at it’s talkin’,” noted Ray.

“Indeed.”

“Wish I could be like Dippy with my folks,” sighed Ray. “I mean, I know we’re doin’ OK now, but we’ve never talked about the past. It’s like my Dad has just, er, drawn a line under it and we’re never gonna speak about it. I still want to know why he cut me out of his life.”

“Sometimes the past can hold painful memories that are best kept supressed,” replied Fraser. A sudden flash of memory from his own childhood came into his head and he closed his eyes as he forced it away. 

Ray shrugged. “Maybe,” he replied. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked at Fraser. “You OK?” he asked.

“Yes, Ray,” lied Fraser, opening his eyes. He couldn’t make sense of the images he saw in his mind and that scared him more than he could put into words.

Ray instantly knew his buddy was not OK at all, but figured, as was so often the case, he didn’t want to talk about it. He gave Fraser a friendly slap on the back. “So who’d have bet on Turnbull having parents and a sister?” he asked with a grin.

“Serendipity’s visit has been quite a revelation,” agreed Fraser, handing Ray a cup of hot coffee.

“He’s a lucky guy,” noted Ray. “I mean, he’s a moron, but he’s a lucky guy. I’ve always wanted a kid sister. Stupid, really.”

“Not at all,” replied Fraser, quietly. “A sibling would certainly…” he paused before finishing, “fill a void.”

“Might’ve made bein’ a kid less lonely,” noted Ray as he dropped a handful of coloured candies into his coffee.

“Not just childhood,” added Fraser, wistfully. “Constable Turnbull is, indeed, very fortuitous.”

“Sorry,” said Ray, suddenly aware that the conversation was turning maudlin again. “Hey, you’ve got me for a buddy now,” he said with a grin, “what more could a Canadian need?”

“Indeed,” replied Fraser. He’d had childhood friends, but none – not Mark Smithbaur, or even Innusiq – had been as good a friend to him as Ray, or the real Ray Vecchio had become; he felt as close as any brother to both of them.”

“And I guess we’ve got the Vecchios too,” continued Ray.

Fraser laughed. “Or, perhaps more accurately,” he began with a dry smile. “The Vecchios have got us.”

Ray grinned and sipped his hot coffee. “Think you’re right there, buddy,” he said. He lifted his coffee mug in a toast. “To family,” he offered. “Even, er, even dysfunctional ones.”

Fraser glanced up to see the ghost of his father standing silently in the corner. He smiled and nodded. “To family.”

THE END


End file.
